


Perception Isn't Everything

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-02
Updated: 2007-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 112,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The Ministry is changing its image.  What’s a young, proper, career-minded and love-starved girl to do when she’s no longer the Ministry’s ‘Poster Child?’  And, who’s giving her a little push in the right direction?  Eighteen months after the fall of our favorite villain.  Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny.





	1. Chapter 1 - Prim and Proper

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Monday  
  
It was that time of the afternoon when all of your thoughts start to drift to the evenings activities. For Ron it was the most boring time of the day, but he surmised it made sense fitting into his somewhat boring life. Boring. He laughed to himself. There used to be a time not that long ago when he would have cherished a boring day. Too many days in the history of Ron Weasley’s life contained drama that was mind boggling and even those less dramatic were still eventful in their own right.  
  
His eyes drifted to the photo sitting on his desk. It was taken just three days before the end of the war, before those in the photograph knew that they were about to go through a day of hell like no other. After eight months of living on the run, hunting down horcruxes and learning a lifetime’s worth about each other, they were nearly done. He picked up the silver frame, gently wiping the dust from the smiling faces of his friends and family. Ginny on the left, her smile lighting up the photo had just said something witty. He couldn’t remember what, but it had them all in a light-hearted mood when Colin Creevey stepped in front of them to snap the photo. Thank God she had missed the worst of the fighting and came away the least damaged of all.  
  
There in the center stood his best-mate Harry, black hair messy as ever, green eyes shining and focused solely on Ron’s sister. The look said it all; the amusing grin and the hand just ghosting her waist. He was in love with her, even then. Ron stood in the center, his hand on Harry’s shoulder, just as always, offering his support and encouragement. Harry had always been like another brother to him and he treated him as such. Even when Harry stood up to Voldemort, Ron was there: just behind him, watching his back, defending him to the end. He paid for it, of course, spending a week at St. Mungo’s, but he would have done it a thousand times over to save his friend.  
  
Harry showed such incredible magical power and phenomenal moral courage that day. It astounded even those who knew him well. When Ron woke up and found out that Harry was in the room next door, he dragged himself there as soon as his legs would function. They spent the next several days healing together. Harry required a bit of a longer stay, but he came away in one piece and with one thing on his mind: Ginny.  
  
During Ron’s last hospital visit, Harry confided in him his desire to be with Ginny from that point on. He told Ron that he had decided to put all the death and sorrow behind him and be unbearably happy with her for the rest of his life. Ron couldn’t help but feel thrilled for him and even more so for his baby sister whom he knew had been holding out hope for a miracle…one she was about to receive.  
  
His thumb brushed over Ginny’s face once more before his eyes shifted to the far right. Hermione. She was pressed tightly against his side, her long curls flowing in a mass around her head, looking irresistibly brilliant, in mind and body. In the photo, his left arm was holding her close for they were the best of friends. Ron knew even then that she was more than a friend, but whether she considered that, well, it was still unknown.  
  
Hermione’s incredible focus and memory were what ultimately gave Harry the ability to defeat Voldemort. He and Harry had tried in vain, in the final moments, to keep her back for they knew she was exhausted from lack of sleep for two days. Probably running on adrenaline only, she persisted through the crowd and was only steps behind them when Voldemort was struck down. Unfortunately for her, she had to watch her two best friends fall wounded right before her eyes in the process. Once again, it was her knowledge of healing spells, practiced in the field, that saved them all.  
  
When Ron woke up in the hospital, he knew his life was about to change when he rolled over to find a sleeping Hermione in the chair beside his bed, looking like an angel. And she kept that title in his heart from that point forward. Now, eighteen months later, he was sitting at his desk in the Ministry, complaining about his boring job!  
  
Well, he was an Auror - his life’s dream. Well, actually Quidditch star was at the top of the list, but that didn’t pan out. Instead, he endured six months of intensive training and another four of being labeled a rookie. It would have been longer, but he and Harry both battle-hardened, displayed some skills that made a few senior Aurors look green. In fact, his strategic planning skills had become so good that he was pulled from the field a month earlier, instead, supervising several tough cases. Just approaching the tender age of twenty, Ron Weasley was making quite a name for himself.  
  
A knock on the door didn’t ask permission, but announced the arrival of someone as it swung open and a tall, blonde lady in a very short skirt and high heels came in, carrying some parchment and a toothy smile.  
  
“Mr. Weasley, these are for you.” Laying them on the corner of his desk, she paused to smile at him more directly.  
  
“Thank you, Rhonda.” He stood up and took the files toward the other side of his office more as a deterrent than from any necessary office function. Rhonda had a habit of hanging around, leaning toward him, flaunting every piece of revealed flesh she could. Both Harry and Ron had been named the Wizarding World’s Most Eligible Bachelor’s a year earlier and were inundated with letters, photos, locks of hair and even some very interesting items of clothing.  
  
Rhonda was a beautiful girl and didn’t hide the fact that she thought Ron was the epitome of manhood. However, Ron’s heart was still stuck on Hermione and wouldn’t allow him to stray, not even in the face of this long-legged, busty beauty.  
  
“Mr. Weasley. I must say you look very handsome today. I think you should wear more blue. It’s very becoming on you.”  
  
Ron was trying to appear occupied and replied politely. “Thanks, Rhonda. I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
Just then a buzzing noise caught his attention and he realized it was the cell phone clipped to his belt. He slid it free of its case; still staring at the item like it belonged on some other planet. Harry and Hermione had both asked him to carry one for each of them had to spend a good deal of time in Muggle London and sometimes needed to reach him without the luxury of Apparition.  
  
He scoffed at the idea, at first, thinking it unnecessary and rather corny, but Harry made a point about saying how if Ron was going to be with Hermione, he really should learn a bit more about the Muggle world. Ron could see his point and so he started carrying this buzzing plastic case on his belt since a month earlier.  
  
“Um…hello?” he still spoke into the phone hesitantly, wondering if it might burn his ear.  
  
It was Harry.  
  
“Hey, mate! Listen are you about to get off from work?”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll be done in about an hour. Why?”  
  
“Why don’t you grab Hermione and meet me at the pub tonight?”  
  
“Yeah. Okay. That sounds good. So, I’ll see you right after work.”  
  
He snapped the case shut and replaced it on his belt. A night at the pub. It was just what he needed to put him in better spirits and plough through the rest of his day.  
  
About an hour later, the paperwork was done and he prepared to head to the fifth floor and find Hermione.  
  
Walking out to the hallway, it was buzzing with people, all going home for the day. As usual, the lifts were crowded so Ron decided to take the stairs and quickly strode toward Hermione’s floor.  
  
Approaching Hermione’s office always lifted his spirits. Just seeing her was the highlight of his day. That explained why he was smiling when he opened the door to the small group of offices. Her desk, neatly stacked with precise piles of parchment, folders and books, looked out of place amongst the others.  
  
As was the norm, Hermione’s hair sat a top of her head, twisted in a tight, perfectly placed bun. A pair of glasses sat on her nose, not because she needed them, but because, she told Ron, it made her look more professional. Then there were the black robes, always neat and pressed and _always_ black. Ron shook his head every time at seeing her like this for he had known another side of her, a side that was now hidden away.  
  
Hermione had actually been selected about six months earlier as the ‘poster girl’ for the new Ministry ad campaign. The Minister of Magic thought she exemplified the high standards of a Ministry employee: cool, professional, articulate and very uptight, if you asked Ron. However, Hermione took her position seriously and always maintained an air of proper dignity. The problem was that this whole persona was seeping into her private life as well. It was getting harder and harder to get her to join them for any fun. She was cocooned in a tight little world, unable to let her hair down, literally.  
  
Their friendship remained very strong, but careers and lives had intervened, pushing a slight wedge between what might have otherwise grown into an intimate relationship by now. At least that is what Ron blamed it on. After keeping his feelings to himself for those eight months of horcrux hunting, he was more than ready to explore the world of dating when he got out of the hospital, but time seemed to elude them. Then when the ad campaign started, it was like the funny, vivacious Hermione became the serious and studious one.  
  
At the moment, her focus was on some written document in front of her, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Ron knew this expression for he had seen it a million times. Usually it meant she was in really deep thought and he paused before approaching her, not wanting to break her concentration.  
  
The job was taken care of for him when one of Hermione’s co-workers walked in.  
  
“Hi, Ron! Didn’t hear you come in.”  
  
“Hello Martina.” Ron’s attention didn’t stay away for long for another set of brown eyes were now smiling back at him. He closed the distance between them as Hermione was rising from her seat.  
  
“Hey, ‘Mione.” He knew it was coming - the customary greeting that he absolutely adored and willingly accepted. She was on her toes and he leaned down just a bit before her lips pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Himself and Harry were the only ones who received such a greeting and only when they were relatively alone.  
  
“Ron! This is a surprise. What’s going on?”  
  
“I just stopped by to invite you to join Harry, Ginny and I at the pub tonight. Are you almost done for the day?”  
  
“Well, actually, I was planning on working late tonight. I have this huge presentation that’s due in a couple of days and…”  
  
“You have to eat, don’t you? Come on.” He reached down and took her hand. “You need a break. You’ve heard that saying about ‘All work and no play make Ron a grumpy wizard’ right?”  
  
A giggle indicated that he was getting through to her.  
  
“Alright, Ron. Just give me a minute?” Her raised brow waited for his reply, a slow grin spreading over her face.  
  
“One minute. Starting now.” Ron waved his hand and the vision of a clock appeared transparent against the wall, the second hand ticking away.  
  
The smile never left her face as she put her things away and said a quick goodbye to Martina. The two of them were leaving the Ministry building within five minutes.  
  
They were a comfortable couple. After all, eight and a half years of knowing each other had to count for something. The intense friendship persisted through all else and they had delved into the concept of a romantic relationship on several occasions, but it hadn’t actually come to fruition.  
  
Ron had adapted to the ‘new’ Hermione, unwilling to give up on her or on them. Holding hands was a common occurrence, kisses on the cheek next as far as the frequency was involved. Lip action had been limited to a few chaste encounters with only one being what Ron would describe as an actual kiss. Not having worked up the courage to make anything official, Ron found that just letting things coast along and develop slowly was working fairly well.  
  
He had discovered years earlier that Hermione was a complex creature, one that required real effort to date. Her books had always led her life, her knowledge taking her everywhere. However, with infinite patience, Ron had been making headway into the romance department. She just seemed too tense most of the time and very proper. That was the only way to describe Hermione: proper.  
  
So, adhering to that spirit, Ron made a point of being a gentleman at all times, a gentle hand on her back leading her around, pulling out her chair, opening her door, lots of kisses on the hand. Proper courting was how he described it to Harry. He was definitely courting her. Almost everyone besides Hermione knew how Ron felt about her.  
  
Still, he never formally asked her to be his girlfriend and he recognized the fact that this meant she, technically, could date other blokes. Luckily, she hadn’t and Ron figured he’d deal with that issue if and when it ever arose.  
  
Walking into the pub, they immediately found Ron’s sister, participating in what appeared to be a very animated conversation with Harry who had a permanent grin spread on his face. It warmed Ron’s heart seeing both of them this happy. His baby sister, he chucked to himself, was looking smashing tonight. Her hair was up, dangly gold earrings sparkled in the dim light, a pink, very flirtatious looking, jumper hanging slightly off one shoulder. Ginny was a truly free spirit and best of all had pulled Harry out from behind his brooding mask, something Ron was doubly thankful for.  
  
Ron slapped Harry on the shoulder as they approached, offering a smile.  
  
Harry turned back. “Hey, mate! Glad you could come!” He reached out to shake his hand and stood as Hermione walked around the table. Ron was already pulling out a chair for her.  
  
“Wouldn’t miss it. Hi baby sister.”  
  
No simple cheek kisses from Ginny. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to lift her off the ground or bend over from the weight hanging around his neck.  
  
“I may be younger than you, but I’m definitely not a baby.”  
  
Ron jokingly coughed as if she were strangling him. “Yeah, you’re far too big to be a baby.”  
  
“Hey!” A quick slap on the arm provided an end to their jest.  
  
Harry had made his way around to Hermione, leaning down for a hug and another kiss on the cheek before she finally took her seat.  
  
“Barkeep! Can we get four butterbeers over here?” A wave of the hand and Harry’s undeniable presence were all it usually took to receive top notch service from just about every eating and drinking establishment in wizard London. With such a recognizable face and reputation that rivaled even the biggest politician, Harry was learning to accept his status and use his fame for good.  
  
Most of that had been Ginny’s doing. At first she started with subtle suggestions about visiting the hospital, especially the children. Then, helping the families of those who had been ripped apart by years of war. Harry had used a good portion of Sirius’ money combined with several rewards and started a foundation to help those affected by Voldemort and his followers. He also made it a point to help as many orphaned children as possible, not wanting any of them to suffer his upbringing or fall fate to that of Tom Riddle’s history.  
  
Ginny swung out a hip to bump Harry from his spot next to Hermione and she swiftly took the seat beside her girlfriend.  
  
“Oi!” Harry complained, but he knew Ginny had her heart set on a little girl talk. A backward glance from her, accompanied by her usual radiance set everything right again and Harry moved around to accept the now delivered drinks.  
  
“So, what’s new in the world of Harry Potter?” Ron tipped his head back for a quick swig.  
  
“Hmm. Let’s see. There’s work, but then you know all about that.”  
  
“Yeah. I was just laughing to myself how boring my job was this afternoon.”  
  
Harry chucked him on the arm. “Well, that’s your own fault, you know. If you weren’t so damn brilliant, you’d be in the field with me most of the time. But, nooo, you have to go and show me up, mister ‘he has a keen eye for counter-intelligence and the inner workings of the criminal mind.’” Harry’s voice had dropped an octave, mimicking the speech of Kingsley Shacklebolt from the day of Ron’s promotion.  
  
“Yeah, well, we can’t all get by on our messy hair, green eyes and famous name alone.”  
  
“Git.”  
  
“Pretty Boy.”  
  
“Suck up.”  
  
Finally, a female voice interrupted the playful banter. “Are you two quite finished with the foreplay?”  
  
“Ginny!” Hermione gasped and blushed at the use of the intimate word.  
  
Harry, having learned from the master herself, turned the tables immediately. “Well, I don’t know.” He jumped into Ron’s lap. “Are we ready for the heavy petting?”  
  
“Get off!” Ron pushed him back with a look of disgust, but the grin soon returned.  
  
Harry looked directly at Hermione and must have noticed the quiet expression on her face. “Hermione. Is something wrong?”  
  
“Wrong? No. I just can’t believe that it’s you sometimes. You’re just not the same Harry I grew up with.”  
  
“You’re absolutely right. I’m a much happier Harry.” Ginny was now beaming back at him and Ron recognized it was because she knew full well that much of that joy was her doing. At the very least, her participation was required. His eyes met hers as he continued. “I’m now the Harry that found true love.”  
  
The two love birds seemed to get caught up in the moment, but Ron broke the scene.  
  
“Get a room, you two. No, wait! Cancel that. What am I saying?” His next words were directed to Ginny. “Shouldn’t you be checking back in at the convent sometime soon?”  
  
“Ha ha. No, Ron. I’m not a fuddy-duddy like some people. I like to go out and enjoy myself.”  
  
Ron just rolled his eyes and took another drink. Hermione was looking decidedly dejected and Ron knew it was due to the fuddy-duddy remark. Ginny didn’t seem to realize the impact of her statement and continued on.  
  
“Seriously. You and Hermione should come out with Harry and me one night. We found this great dance club. The DJ is a Muggle, but it ends up his brother is a wizard. So, he’s discreet and we can blend in with everyone and have a great time.” She turned back to Hermione. “What about this Saturday night?”  
  
“Um…oh, no. I don’t think that I should…” Hermione’s tone was polite and, as usual, very proper. “Well, I mean, what if I were seen by a co-worker?”  
  
“What if? They’d be just as guilty as you of having a little fun.” Ginny now turned her attention to her brother, hoping to convince the other half of the couple. “Ron. You’d like to come, right? Tell her.”  
  
“I don’t know, Gin. If Hermione doesn’t want to go, well…”  
  
Ron considered himself a part of Hermione’s life and if she didn’t want to go, then he didn’t either. He had long ago convinced himself that to win Hermione’s heart meant living in her world. Give and take. She tried to enjoy Quidditch a bit more and he accompanied her to the library. They weren’t party animals, but he was happy just being with her.  
  
“Ron. You don’t have to stay home on my account.” Hermione’s hand had snuck across the table and now rested on his arm.  
  
Not wanting to make her feel bad, he immediately changed his tune. “Well, I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”  
  
Ginny looked like she was about to argue back when they were distracted by a noise at the door.  
  
A group of ladies entered the pub, led by Rhonda, the top member of the Ron Weasley fan club. They all headed in the opposite direction, taking a table at the other side of the room. Ron noticed, but didn’t pay them any heed. He was perfectly content sitting here with his friends and sister.  
  
Harry pushed his chair back. “I’m hungry. I think I’ll order something. Do you all want to share some starters?”  
  
“Sure. That would be very nice.” Hermione nodded with Ginny and Ron agreed as well.  
  
“Come on, mate. Help me decide on something.” Harry grabbed a fist full of Ron’s robes and pulled him along, leaving the two ladies to converse on their own.  
  
***   
  
Once a safe distance from the table, Harry leaned in just a bit closer to his friend. “I’ve got to show you something.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Harry kept pulling him around so that Ron’s body now totally blocked Harry’s view from the ladies at their table. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. He glanced around, ensuring their privacy and snapped the lid open down at his waist.  
  
Ron let out a low whistle. His eyes swung from the box back to his friends’ face.  
  
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but is that for my little sister?”  
  
Harry was grinning as he stared at the platinum set diamond ring, displayed in all it’s majesty from the little velvet slot.  
  
Harry snapped it shut, returning it to his pocket in a very covert gesture. “Well, it certainly isn’t for you. I mean I love you, mate, but I don’t think you’d make such a good wife in the long run.”  
  
Ron was preparing a witty comeback, but noticed the smile slip from Harry’s face, something that was a rare occurrence as of late. He almost felt uncomfortable with Harry now looking him directly in the eye and he waited in silence, not sure what was about to be said.  
  
“I’m going to ask her soon. I love her, Ron. I’m completely terrified of your brothers and I’ll probably be strangled when your Mom wraps her arms around me, but I’m going to do it anyway.”  
  
“It’s about time you became a legal member of the family.” Ron’s grin was coming back with a vengeance. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”  
  
Ron motioned toward the bar and the two of them made their way between a small group of people, each looking like they had similar Ministry jobs. Each was dressed in their formal black robes, just like Hermione’s, and each stood stiffly tipping back a drink and muttering office gossip. If anyone ever fit Ginny’s description of a fuddy duddy, it was this group. Ron was sure their ties were on so tight that they probably slept in them.  
  
Unable to not overhear, Ron shook his head and whispered to Harry. “Please don’t ever let me become one of them.”  
  
A giggle and the increasing volume of female voices announced the arrival of Rhonda and her friends. Ron rolled his eyes, begging they hadn’t seen him and he would be spared another round of ‘Let’s flirt with the eye candy’ – a phrase he had heard Rhonda use before in his presence.  
  
Harry had already started ordering when they were spotted.  
  
“Ladies! It’s Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.” Rhonda tip-toed over, if that were possible, considering the height of the heels on her feet forced her to walk on her toes anyway. She tapped Ron on the shoulder and he knew he had been caught.  
  
“Hi, Ron.”  
  
He turned his head only. “Hello, Rhonda.”  
  
“Oh, you don’t mind if I call you Ron when we’re away from the office, right?”  
  
“Hi, Harry.” She continued her introductions, forcing the two of them to turn around as she gave each one of her girlfriends’ names. Ron was sure that he must be in the presence of some former members of a Quidditch Cheer Squad for each lady was tan with long legs, white teeth and cleavage pressed up to there.   
  
Harry seemed to enjoy their presence, not feeling off in the least. Ron suspected that was because he was sure about his relationship and knew Ginny wasn’t the type to get jealous over girls of this type. He was polite and friendly, shaking their hands and engaging in innocent, light conversation.  
  
Rhonda, however, had other things on her mind and was making a point of standing as close to Ron as possible, her other friend flanking Ron with a bracelet clad arm resting on his shoulder, her mostly exposed leg, propped up on the wooden support of the stool in front of them.  
  
“So, do you ladies come here often?”  
  
The brunette on Ron’s right spoke much smoother. “Not too often. I actually prefer going downtown. The quality of the men..” her eyes were making a distinct trip over Ron’s features, taking great pains to scan everything below the belt as well. “Well, the men who are really going places like to go downtown. You don’t find the average bloke down there and I’m not an average girl.”  
  
With a slow blink came a slight shift that seemed to hike her skirt up even higher, if that were possible. Ron was feeling a bit flushed at the contact and knew he should probably excuse himself, but here was this stunning woman, checking him out with an open invitation for more.   
  
“You should come down one night with us. You know, we hate going alone, just us girls with no men to escort us.” She dropped her leg and slipped around to stand directly in front of him, casually flipping her hair over her shoulder. “What if we were to get in trouble and needed a strong…” She ran a finger down his bicep. “Capable wizard to defend us. Where would we be then?”  
  
The tingle of sex filled the air and Ron found himself lacking in any words, in fact, lacking in any thoughts beside the smell of the girl in front of him and the fact that her right knee was now grazing up his thigh.  
  
“You wouldn’t want us to get hurt now, would you?” She spoke, moving even closer.  
  
Ron finally found some words. They were simple, but sounded appropriate.  
  
“Of course not.”  
  
Rhonda must have noticed the moment was right and interjected. “Great. Then you’ll come with us next weekend.”  
  
Ron realized that he had been caught, hook, line and sinker. This girl had been the bait and he bit like an idiot and was now firmly hooked on her rope.  
  
“Um…well, we’ll see. I can’t promise anything ladies.”  
  
***   
  
With the men leaving them alone for a moment, Hermione finally spoke up.  
  
“You look exceedingly happy over something.”  
  
“Do I?” Ginny took a sip of her butterbeer. Hermione just cocked her head with that ‘you know you do’ expression. “Well, I can’t help it. Harry makes me feel that way. Everything has just been going so well between us.”  
  
“That’s great, Ginny. I just heard about the foundation Harry started up. Was that his idea or yours?”  
  
“Both really. We were talking one night and he…um… made a comment about how to spend some of his money and I offered the suggestion of a foundation.”  
  
It was Ginny’s demeanor more than her words that tipped Hermione off. Much more had happened than was just indicated and she gave her girlfriend a questioning grin. Ginny suddenly flushed and smiled even bigger.  
  
“Oh, alright. We were laying on his bed and he had his hand up my shirt when he said, ‘I might have to take all my money and spend it on you, especially if you’re going to continue to drive me mad with this fantastic body.’ And then I suggested he might want to start some kind of foundation instead since he could have my fantastic body anyway!” Ginny’s voice raised to a glee filled giggle at the end.  
  
Hermione smiled, but shushed her for fear of the neighboring tables overhearing their girl talk.   
  
“Oh, my.” Hermione tried to tone down the smile on her face. “So, I take it that you and Harry have…you know…”  
  
“Gone all the way?”  
  
“Well, yeah.”  
  
Hermione felt a bit nervous and took another drink, opening up the top button of her robes to allow a little air to circulate. There was a curiosity, albeit an embarrassing one, for Hermione who hadn’t experienced these things personally. She chuckled to herself in the realization that she was living vicariously through her friend.  
  
“Actually, no. You know we only saw each other twice last year while I was at school. He did write to me constantly, but obviously we couldn’t have any physical relationship, but that was okay because I really don’t think I was quite ready for it anyway.”  
  
“So, are you ready for it now?”  
  
Growing up with six brothers must have taken its toll because Ginny seemed to be aching to talk to another girl. She’d seen Hermione plenty of times, but their opportunities to talk privately had always been hampered by someone or something that was going on. Hermione wondered if she spoke to her Mom, but suspected that she didn’t relay everything since she seemed so open and willing to talk to her.  
  
“I’m not sure. I mean we’re taking it slow and…”  
  
“But, Gin, you and Harry were quite close the spring of 6th year and a good portion of 7th. You can’t tell me you never messed around at all.”  
  
“We kissed. A lot. Sometimes it was quite intense, but that was all we did. So, this past six months we’ve sort of had to start from scratch again.” Ginny just kept smiling. “Oh, Hermione, he’s so sweet. We have messed around a little bit, but I made it clear that I wanted to wait and he’s just been so great, but his kisses…Oh my God, he’s just incredible!”  
  
Ginny must have noticed Hermione’s pink cheeks and shift in her chair. “Are you getting hot?”  
  
“Just a bit. It’s kind of stuffy in here.” Hermione’s hand was fanning herself.  
  
Like night and day, Ginny’s tone changed from giggly girl to counselor extraordinaire.  
  
“Hermione, why do you wear those black robes all the time? I know you own pretty clothes, but all I ever see you in is black. The war is over. You need to move on, open up a bit, have some fun!”  
  
“Ginny, I have a very serious career going right now and I don’t want to jeopardize it. You know about my role as the Ministry model.”  
  
“That’s a load of shite and you know it. You can look all conservative at the office and still let lose on the weekends. You’re wrapped tighter than a Wizengamot judge! Remember back in fourth year at the ball? You knocked their socks off! You looked bloody fantastic and made my brother so jealous, he couldn’t stand it!”  
  
At the mention of said brother, Hermione’s focus moved to find the item of their conversation and found him sandwiched between two leggy girls. Ginny must have noticed her frozen expression and followed her gaze along until she spotted the wide expanses of flesh that were surrounding her brother.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. She had no right to be jealous. She and Ron weren’t officially a couple. She had no rights to him, but the little green monster was trying to show itself, despite her best efforts to keep it back.  
  
Ginny swung around behind her and spoke in her ear. “You could look like them, if you wanted to.”  
  
“Oh, right. There’s no way I could ever look or act like that! They are just brazen hussies and I’m…”  
  
“You’re going to lose my brother to one of those brazen hussies, if you don’t get off your duff and do something.”  
  
“What?” Hermione seemed to draw back to the here and now, but one eye still followed the action at the other end of the room. “First of all, we’re not a couple and he can look at whomever he likes.” She ticked off the next item on her hand. “Second, he’s not interested in that type anyway.”  
  
“Hermione. I’m only one year younger than you and I know that a young man at the age of nineteen is definitely interested in that type.”  
  
“So, then why aren’t you jealous of Harry standing over there surrounded by all those women?”  
  
“Because I trust Harry and I love him and I know that he loves me. He can look all he wants because I know he’ll be the one home with me tonight.”  
  
Hermione let out a sigh. A tear even trickled down her cheek causing Ginny to express her concern. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“It’s just that…what you said…it’s so romantic. I want that. I want that so much, but Ron is just very polite and unsure. He never tries to touch me that way. We haven’t even properly snogged.”  
  
Ginny turned and pulled Hermione’s arm, forcing her to face away from the men and focus on her.   
  
“Hermione. I know that my brother fancies you a lot. Harry tells me things.” Hermione looked back with an encouraging expression. “From what he tells me, Ron is being all proper and reserved because of you. He would love to go farther, but he respects you too much. He’d also love to go out and party, but he’s afraid of losing you.”  
  
Ginny grabbed Hermione’s face and made her look back just as the brunette was running her knee up Ron’s thigh.   
  
“If you want to keep him, you need to open up a bit. You need a make-over and we need to go out and party so you can compete with those girls.”  
  
As if the scene before her were too much to handle, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t compete with those girls.”  
  
“Oh, yes you can. You give me a week and I will have Ron drooling over you. Now, you have to decide. Are you going to fight for this, or let him go to one of those shameless hussies?”  
  
The chair scraped the floor loudly as Hermione stood up, threw her shoulders back and reached up to pull the clip out of her hair that was holding it in its bun. She marched toward the bar, shaking her head to loosen her hair, knowing full well that Ron loved her hair when it was down. She was going to prove to Ginny that she wasn’t some fuddy-duddy and that she _would_ fight. Ron might be on the market, but Hermione was ready to assert the fact that she had the first option in this bid and was making it now!  
  
Her face slithered into a charming smile as she approached the bar and a hand slipped around Ron’s waist, claiming him as she spoke with an intentional endearment.  
  
“Sweetheart, could you order me another butterbeer…Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself to your friend. How rude.” She turned and properly offered her hand to the tall brunette, an innocent smile and focused eyes trained on the enemy.  
  
The brunette looked down at the proffered hand with a raised eyebrow before returning the same look of indignation toward Hermione that she was giving her. “Hermione Granger. And you are?”  
  
Her voice was smooth, Hermione would categorize it as evil, but smooth nonetheless. Her long fingers reached up as if examining the buttons on Ron’s shirt, making Hermione grind her teeth, even through her smile.   
  
“As you said, I’m a friend of Ron’s.” Ending the statement there, Hermione immediately sensed success in her plan for the girl was already refraining from giving her name.  
  
Looking back to Ron, she observed the double blink and wide-eyed look of a man who didn’t know what had hit him. She knew the battle was won, only seconds later, when his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders and the manicured hand that had been resting on Ron’s shirt slowly dropped to the brunette’s side, indicating her surrender.  
  
Hermione’s distaste for this creature only intensified when she stepped back and spoke again, directing her first comments to Hermione. “Well, it was lovely to meet you.”  
  
Then turning to Ron. “Ronnie, darling, I hope you will consider what I said. You can reach me through Rhonda.”  
  
At this point, Hermione’s blood had passed simmering stage, but only her calm wits and frozen smile kept Vesuvius from erupting. Ron seemed dumbfounded, but turned to order Hermione another drink his arm still around her. Hermione glanced over toward Ginny, who acting as her second mouthed to her ‘she is watching’ indicating the enemies continued surveillance. Hermione’s jaw tightened and knowing their backs were facing the group of girls, she dropped her hand down to Ron’s backside and gave his arse a squeeze.  
  
Her focus was so much on their reaction that she almost didn’t think of the consequences for the victim. Ron jumped, ever so subtly, knocking Hermione’s drink over, but up-righted it quickly before looking down at her in shock. It only took a second, however, before his eyes burned blue toward her and a wide smile infused her soul with warmth.  
  
The threat now gone, Hermione accepted the bottle from Ron and almost skipped back to the table, feeling smug and satisfied. With an air of casual normalcy, Hermione twisted her hair and pressed the clip back in at the top, returning it to its proper position and her to her normal demeanor.  
  
Ginny grinned. “I’m glad to see you’ve still gone some fight in you. Good work.”  
  
“Ron deserves much more than _that_.” She nodded toward Rhonda’s friend.  
  
“Yes he does. He deserves you, but you’re going to have to do much more if you want to keep the likes of _those_ away.” She also gestured toward the clique of girls that were now drawing most of the attention on the other side of the pub.  
  
The men were now coming back from the bar, Harry holding their food and the girls terminated their discussion, leaving Hermione to consider her future love life.  
  
***   
  
Having left the pub, Ron escorted Hermione back to her flat. Instead of Apparating, Ron suggested a quiet stroll. They spoke about Ron’s family, keeping the conversation innocent enough. He slipped his fingers through hers about halfway through their walk, forcing Hermione’s thoughts back to their earlier encounter and her conversation with Ginny.  
  
Ron opened the gate in front of her building and followed her up the steps.  
  
“Thanks for walking me back, Ron.”  
  
“Any time.” He smiled.  
  
Ron had slipped his hands into his pockets and was shuffling his feet a bit appearing nervous or unsure of what to say or do.  
  
“Do you want to come in?”  
  
“Um…yeah. Sure.”  
  
He followed her through the door. She headed straight for the kitchen. “Tea?”  
  
“That would be great.”   
  
Thinking back to her conversation with Ginny, she admitted to herself how much she wanted him to make a move. To approach her, to show her something that would prove how he felt, but he strolled casually into the living area. The disappointment of his actions tugged at her heart. Turning back to the tea, she had magically heated the water and was pouring two cups when she heard music playing in the other room.  
  
Walking in with the hot tea, she was shocked to see Ron checking out her compact disc collection, the current disc playing a very hip-hop tune. He spun around when she entered the room.  
  
“Is this your CD?” He held up the case, showing a very scantily glad girl on the cover.  
  
“Um…yes, it is. Ron, when did you learn how to use a CD player?”  
  
She handed him one of the cups and promptly turned off the music that was blaring through her flat.  
  
“Harry has one. He showed me. He’s showed me a lot of stuff than runs with e-lec-tri-city.” Ron spoke carefully to get it right and Hermione knew that word had always plagued him so she noticed the effort.  
  
“I’m just surprised, I guess. First you agree to a cell phone, now you’re playing CDs. It’s so Muggle of you.”  
  
Ron pulled the cup away from his lips and furrowed his brow a bit, something she picked up on immediately. “I’m not saying its bad, Ron. I think it’s great.”  
  
That seemed to calm things over as the cup returned to Ron’s lips and Hermione walked around him to change the CD and put in something a bit slower. She also adjusted the volume to a lower level and then returned to the sofa and picked up her cup.  
  
Ron had found a seat on the same sofa. Her intention was to sit as close as possible, but not appear too obvious so, she sat down next to him, but leaned forward just a bit. The music started up, soft and slow and she waited, sipping her tea and wondering if he might make a move tonight. She knew that her actions earlier in the evening had been out of character, but he seemed to like it. At least, based on the smile he gave her, she knew he didn’t _not_ like it.  
  
Peripherally, she saw the tea cup come to rest on the table, a moment later he was standing. A hand appeared next to her. “Dance with me?”  
  
She looked up to an inviting grin and took his hand. He pulled her between the separations in the furniture to an open space and placed a large hand on her waist. A gentle squeeze of his fingers forced a subtle heat over her. This innocent gesture demonstrated the intense impact of their still developing relationship on her. With a practiced ease, she slid into the niche below his chin as if it was made just for her. This they had done before, usually accompanied by some friendly, soft conversation. The truth was that having him close to her provided more comfort, more serenity than any book ever could and the thought scared her.  
  
Without an established, official bond between them, the possibility of losing him was not entirely improbable and that thought was heartbreaking. She wanted to grab hold of him and never let go, to lay claim to him and scream to the world that he was hers and hers alone.   
  
Underneath all of that want burned a fear in Hermione. It wasn’t a fear of rejection for she knew that Ron wouldn’t just dump her. It was more a fear of the long term, of them establishing that intimacy and then six months, six years down the road, he discovers that she’s just plain Hermione Granger, book smart, but not beautiful. Simple, not sexy. She didn’t think she could live through that and it held her back from making even the simplest of romantic gestures toward him.  
  
Hermione sensed they were both considering the same problem, for Ron was not his usual talkative self. She knew this song and the fact that it was coming to an end, spurred her on to take some kind of action before the moment ended, but what? Pushing herself back, she mourned the loss of heat, both physical and emotional, between them. Turning her face up toward his, she searched his eyes, looking for a clue, any help he could provide to her to move things in the proper direction.  
  
“Hermione.”  
  
“Ron.”  
  
Her prayers were answered in the time she blinked and found his calloused hands on her face, his thumb tracing her lips. Hermione felt her heart flutter as the blue of his eyes darkened to reflect his mood. The question in his gaze was soul stirring, for she didn’t know what to say. With them it was always a question of what they were doing, where they were going and neither seemed to have any answers.   
  
This time it seemed that Ron didn’t let the questions stop him for his lips found hers in a purpose-filled kiss that made her weak. He seemed to feed off of her exhaled tension, pulling her roughly toward him, feeding hungrily off of her lips. She longed to give herself over to him, to surrender completely and after Ginny’s warnings that evening, the urgency to do so seemed unbearable.  
  
For the first time, she actually cursed her black robes for the separation it was placing between them. She contemplated grabbing her wand and vanishing the heavy attire. The image Ginny had placed in her mind earlier that evening now burned her with desire. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair, opening herself to his exploration. She longed to have him run his hands up her shirt, but just couldn’t voice that desire. It was buried just like the rest of her, under these damnable robes.  
  
Her mouth parted and he immediately pressed his hot tongue into its waiting depths. Now leaving her cheeks, his large hands had separated, one holding her firmly around her neck and jaw, the other running down her arm.  
  
A low moan escaped her and it seemed to drive Ron forward for his hand dropped to her waist. In concert with his hands, those hot lips left her mouth and without waiting for her invitation, latched on to her neck, sucking, nipping and biting lightly. When his hands slipped farther below and cupped her bottom, pressing her pelvis against him, she couldn’t help the sounds that escaped her lips.  
  
Whatever the meaning of that sound, Ron drew back and released her, his hands shooting toward her shoulders and creating a safer distance. Her body suddenly felt cold and bereft and she opened her eyes, looking for an explanation.  
  
“I’m sorry, Hermione. That was inappropriate. I shouldn’t…I mean, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”  
  
If was clear that Ron felt he had overstepped some unspoken boundary, but Hermione couldn’t remember ever defining it. Before she could argue the point, he had launched back into his speech.  
  
“You need to know that I respect you. I do. It’s just that after what happened tonight, well, I want….I want to…”   
  
“Ron, please. You shouldn’t think..”  
  
“I know! Look, I know what kind of girl you are. You’re an intelligent, classy lady with refined tastes and I’m just a poor, randy bloke who doesn’t know how to behave himself. I shouldn’t be touching you like that. You’re not some sex toy.”  
  
“No, Ron. Please don’t. I…” She started to tell him that she wanted it – longed for him to touch her like that, to tear her robes off and smile at her and for them to lose themselves in one another. But, she just couldn’t bring it to words.  
  
Her look of distress must have triggered something because Ron took a deep breath and appeared to calm himself, probably in an effort to do the same for her.  
  
“Hermione.” He stepped back toward her, taking her hands in his and offering a weak smile. “You have to get some sleep and I need to get home. So, let’s just forget it happened and go on as before, alright?” If he was trying to comfort her, she felt even more alarmed, fearing that he would never want to touch her again.  
  
Before she could respond, he kissed her hand and offered a smile as he turned toward her door. She wanted to rush toward him, to stop him, to ask him to stay, but he already had the door open and whispered a soft, “Goodnight, ‘Mione.” Another smile was all she had to remember as the door clicked shut.  
  
Hermione panicked and sought out the only person whom she felt could help. Within seconds she had Apparated to the Burrow, hoping to find Ginny, but instead all was quiet. Even a quick check of her room showed no signs of her. Knowing the passionate side of Ginny pointed her in the obvious direction and another pop delivered her to Harry’s flat. With cautious apprehension, she peered over the living area, then the kitchen, not wanting to find herself witnessing some intimate moment between Ginny and the object of her affection.  
  
In the relative darkness, she didn’t notice the rucksack on the floor and tripped, knocking over a picture frame on the sideboard. Cringing, she replaced the photo and within seconds found herself looking at the tip of a wand. Glancing up the handle, she saw a bare arm attached to a bare-chested Harry, wearing only jeans, currently unbuttoned and hanging very low on his hips.  
  
The site was both exciting, shocking and embarrassing for her fears of interrupting them had been realized. Hermione had no desires when it came to Harry, but seeing him like this, muscular with a strip of dark hair leading her eyes down, well, in her current state of mind, it made her blush.  
  
“Hermione! You almost got hexed.” He quickly lowered his wand, Ginny appearing behind his shoulder a second later. She was completely dressed, but looking a bit disheveled as she spoke.  
  
“Hermione. What’s wrong?”  
  
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you like this.” She gestured towards Harry’s current form of undress and he quickly glanced down and realized his undoing, pulling the zipper back up and fastening the button.  
  
Ginny had made her way around and was grabbing Hermione’s arm. “What happened?” She glanced back at Harry, still watching from the hallway. “Harry, why don’t you make some tea?”  
  
“Alright.” Looking a big confused, he ran back down the hall, returning a moment later wearing a t-shirt and then headed toward the kitchen. Ginny had escorted Hermione to the sofa.  
  
“Ginny. I need your help. Please. I’m sorry to come here now, but…”  
  
“It’s alright. Did something happen with Ron?”  
  
She nodded and Harry walked in with two cups. “What did that stupid git do now?” Setting them down on the table, he placed a gentle hand on Hermione’s shoulder, offering his support toward whatever squabble had just occurred.  
  
“Look. If this has something to do with him going to the club next weekend…”  
  
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.  
  
Harry certainly realized his mistake for the back-peddling began in earnest. “I mean, he didn’t want to go. They tricked him into it. The tall brunette, she was playing on his sense of duty.”  
  
Ginny cut in, a gentle but firm voice. “Harry. Hush up. Why don’t you head to bed?”  
  
“Well, I would but you’re sitting on my bed for tonight.” Harry pointed toward the sofa. Hermione considered what Harry could have done that warranted him taking the sofa, especially when they were in his own flat. She looked to Ginny for an explanation, not sure if she really wanted to hear. Ginny must have understood her quandary for she continued on.  
  
“I’m staying over at Harry’s flat tonight and he usually takes the sofa and gives me his bed.”  
  
Despite Hermione’s current state of unrest, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of this gesture. “Harry, that’s very gentlemanly of you. I’m sure Ginny’s parents would approve.”  
  
“Yeah, well.” The red hue tinting Harry’s ears was enough to confirm her suspicions that he didn’t want to be sleeping here, but was respecting other’s wishes. “Um…I’ll just wait in the bedroom.”  
  
Ginny nodded and Harry was gone.  
  
“What was he talking about?”  
  
“Hermione, it’s just that the girl at the pub tonight asked Ron to come down to the dance club this weekend. He turned her down, but she twisted it around to make it sound like they needed an escort, or a body guard and you know good ‘ole loyal, stupid, Ron. He fell into the plan without wanting to.”  
  
“That shameless Hussy!” Hermione’s frustration level was only paralleled by her desire to make that leggy brunette eat some crow.  
  
“Now, tell me what happened.”  
  
Hermione went through, reanimating the scene for Ginny and then sat in silence as her friend paused, analyzing the situation.  
  
“First of all, he called you a girl, not a woman. That right there says to me that he doesn’t want to allow himself to consider you a sexual object of his desires. Secondly, he said he respects you. That is good. That we can use.”  
  
Ginny seemed to be in an intense strategic mode, her eyes shifting as she considered their plan of attack. Hermione wasn’t sure of the actions Ginny was contemplating, but at this point, she was firming her resolve to do whatever was necessary to turn things around. She wanted to turn Ron’s head like that brunette, she wanted him to grab her arse and strip her robes from her. The thoughts were making her warm and she unclasped her robes.  
  
“Alright, Hermione, here’s the plan. If those girls want to drag him to the club, then we’re going to give them a dose of their own medicine. We’ll show Ron what you’re really made of and get this relationship of yours on the fast track, once and for all. Are you with me?”  
  
Hermione sensed she was in the middle of a stadium, watching the cheering squad lead a rousing crowd toward victory or possibly a coach giving the speech at the start of the championship games. Either way, she was up for it and ready to fight.  
  
“Yes. I’m ready. Let’s do this!”


	2. Chapter 2 - Bum Snatching

 

Harry had been lying on the bed, scanning through his latest issue of Quidditch Illustrated when the door opened quietly.  Ginny’s eyes were on fire, but she spoke softly.

 

“I’m sorry we took so long.”

 

He tossed the periodical to the floor and slid over on the bed making a space for her. 

 

“What’s going on?  Do I need to have a little talk with Ron?”

 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap.

 

“Look before I say anything, you have to promise you won’t jump on me for being a matchmaker or a busy-body or anything.”

 

Harry’s furrowed brow indicated a tinge of hurt.  “When have I ever done that?”

 

“You haven’t.  It’s just that I have to do something to get those two together.  You know that my brother is crazy about her and she is just as crazy about him.  She’s too afraid of what he and everyone else will think if she lets lose and just has some fun.  He’s afraid of being too forward with the always proper Hermione.”

 

“Yeah.  Ron told me he was courting her properly.  I didn’t even know what that meant until I witnessed it for myself over the past several months.  I’m not sure how me does it.  I mean, I’d go barmy if it was me.”

 

Ginny’s intense look of concern for her friend dissipated, leaving behind a smug grin that hid just beneath the teasing in her voice. 

 

“So, what exactly does that mean, Mr. Potter?  You don’t think you should court me properly, hmm?”  Her body language said it all as she stood back up, one hand on her hip.

 

Harry only rose half-way, grabbing her hand to pull her toward him, her tiny frame landing on top of him with a squeal, causing the mattress to creak in submission.  His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. 

 

“I don’t need to court you anymore, do I?”  He quickly rolled them over, shifting so that he was resting partially on the bed, partially on her.

 

Her red hair fanned out behind her head, her cheeks flushed from the sudden turn of events.  Without waiting on a reply, Harry had burrowed his face against her neck and began to work his way back to where they had been interrupted earlier.  Ginny giggled and then let out a small moan of delight as he ran feather-soft kisses over her neck and jaw.

 

Her earlier admission to Hermione had been totally truthful.  She had been quite forthcoming with Harry some weeks earlier when she felt their intimacy about to move to a new level.  Being with Harry was like being in a dream.  Everything was warm and wonderful, feelings were enhanced and unexpected.  She longed to just continue in the dream and forget completely about jobs and family and responsibilities.  However, some little voice within her, probably that of her mother, advised her to wait.  It was a persistent voice and she had finally explained to Harry that, although she wanted him very much, she didn’t feel ready to give herself completely to him.  Harry hadn’t questioned her at all.  He accepted her decision without complaint and Ginny almost thanked her mother, for he had instead lavished all his attentions onto other parts of her body and in new and different ways.

 

Ginny had never been that physically close with any boys previously.  The most any of them ever got was a little breast action.  So, when she started to feel Harry’s hardness pushing against her leg as he lie exploring her body, she vowed to learn all she could and give him as much attention as possible without allowing them to complete their union.

 

Her eyes had slipped shut and she was starting to drop into a fantasy as Harry rained kisses across her collarbone, his just barely there whiskers brushing over her skin, when suddenly he stopped.  At the loss of heat, she opened her eyes and found him hovering above her, his green orbs blazing in want.  A smile shone through those eyes.

 

“I love you, Gin.”

 

She just smiled, running her hand through his hair and waited for him to continue for he looked like a man with something on his mind.

 

“Ginny, I’d like to take you out on Friday night.  Would you have dinner with me?”

 

“Harry, I was joking about the proper courting you know, right?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.  I still want you to have dinner with me.  So, will you?”

 

“Of course.”  This was a bit confusing, but she tried not to put too much thought to it for Harry had probably just wanted to make up for his earlier comment.  His smile seemed to mean that whatever had been bothering him was now passed for he began kissing her in earnest again.

 

It didn’t take long for her body to respond to his urgings.  Just as he reached her pulse point she shifted, rubbing her thighs together to try and stave off the hunger that was growing deep within her.  His fingertips made their way down her side with great stealth and soon began bunching up the fabric of her jumper.

 

Her hand grabbed his hair in earnest now, encouraging him to continue and she raised her other arm over her head, taking away any barriers that would prevent him from his journey toward the hills.

 

A warm hand slid between the fabric of her jumper and the skin of her stomach.  He continued to inundate her flesh with nips and licks, mumbling in between.  “You are so soft.”  His fingertips continued to tickle her skin as he moved up her body until he found the white lace of her bra and covered her left breast with his hand, gently squeezing and testing its suppleness.

 

A soft noise escaped her lips and she felt his other hand slide up her arm, at the same time raising his head so that she released her grip from his hair.  Soon her wrist was in his grasp and he raised it to join the other arm over her head.  With one swift move, he held both of her wrists down against the pillow with enough force to demonstrate his control, but not enough to hurt her.

 

She whimpered at the gesture and shifted again, the wetness suddenly pooling between her legs at the suggestion of his domination over her.  Now totally exposed to his touch, she dared to open her eyes and watched as he pressed the rest of her jumper up and openly stared at the white lace of her bra.

 

Now, he had seen her like this before, so she couldn’t really understand the look of wonder on his face, but it felt fantastic nonetheless.  He pressed his lips to her ribcage, releasing her wrists as he did so.  It was as if he was testing her.  She didn’t have permission to move just yet so she remained with her arms stretched above her as his hands now worked in tandem to work the front clasp of her bra.

 

The sound of it releasing caused her to inhale in anticipation of his next touch and she closed her eyes in mental preparation of the next sensations she hoped to feel.  Expecting to sense the cool air against her chest, she was surprised to feel his body roll on top of her, his knees pressing between hers searching for a resting place.  As he settled against her, she felt the hardness from within his jeans, pushing against her right at the spot that was now very wet.

 

Up to this point, most of her experiences with him had been through his hands.  Even down there, he had touched her, but it was always through her denims or knickers and he certainly had never put himself in a position between her legs in this manner.  To Ginny this was uncertain territory and she knew Harry was testing the boundaries, trying to discover how far she would let him go.

 

The smile in his green eyes showed an innocence, for Ginny knew he had never experienced this before either and despite his longings, he wanted her to enjoy it as much as he.  This was a joint journey that they were taking hand in hand, both discovering the ecstasies of the flesh, both knowing the trust they were placing in each other in doing so.

 

Ginny allowed her arms to move down and she tugged at his t-shirt.  “Take this off.”

 

“Absolutely.”  Harry raised himself up, still kneeling between her thighs and stripped the cotton garment away, again revealing himself to her.  She somehow felt better knowing that he was exposing himself as well and her fingers trailed after her eyes, skimming along the lines of abdominal muscles.

 

A path of dark hair led her eyes down his stomach right to the button on his Levis and she knew what lay beneath.  The bold side of her wanted to strip him naked and just go for it, but she contented herself with enjoying the muscles on his chest and stomach.

 

His eyes grew darker as the heat of her hands moved up, brushing over his nipples, causing them to harden on her touch.  He waited patiently, his breathing steadily increasing as she continued to navigate his naked body.  Her tiny hands stroked down his sides and she watched a sudden wave of goose-bumps raise on his arms as he shivered.

 

“You have a gorgeous body, Harry.”

 

His smile was subtle, masked only by his cravings for her.  “So do you.  I want to see you, Ginny.”

 

Ginny felt honored by the restraint he was showing for she knew he truly respected and loved her if he was willing to wait for her to instigate the next step.  Releasing a calming breath, she crossed her arms and pulled the bunched up jumper over her head.  The unclasped bra came apart, but didn’t totally reveal its contents.

 

She offered her consent, replacing her arms above her head and licking her lips as his hand palmed her stomach.  Within a second, he gently peeled back the fabric, revealing her b-cup gifts of womanhood.  “God, Ginny.”  His breath now came in short bursts as he allowed his hands to press against her glorious bared breasts.

 

He started out tenderly testing the silkiness, running his thumb over and around her rosy nipple as it began to grow and point up with lustful perkiness.  Her ears tingled and then an incredible sensation rippled over her and she arched her back, pressing her chest into his hands.

 

The feral growl that issued forth from Harry’s throat was exciting and terrifying at the same time.  He lowered his mouth and latched on, sucking and licking the pert rosy-brown center.  His tongue ran around in circles and finally flicked over it in repeated bursts and she arched again, crying out as she gave herself over to him.

 

Her legs fell open, cradling Harry’s hips between them as he adjusted and moved his mouth to give her other breast equal attention.  The way he just brushed the sides and along the bottom of her breast before flicking lightly over the center, nearly drove her mad.  She was now squeezing her thighs against his hips, trying to rub her center against anything that would alleviate the ache that was building deep within her.

 

Just when she thought she was going to scream from the sensations that were wracking her body, Harry kissed her stomach, then slid his tongue into her belly button and finally settled at her waist.  Again, she was forced to open her eyes and find out what he was contemplating next, her hands coming back down to stroke his silky hair.

 

His chin rested on the waistband of her denims for just a moment and then he did something that caused her both joy and concern. The pressure of his hand stroked against her center, rubbing a knuckle slowly down the path of her slit.  

 

“What are you doing?”  

 

This wasn’t a question so much as a warning.  Whether her body reacted positively to this or not, her mind and emotions were still in a battle with her over it.  She was sure that by now, her jeans were entirely soaked and wondered what he would think when he discovered this.  The natural reactions to his touch, his kiss all seemed to be preparing her for the next steps in their intimate discovery tour.  The fear of losing herself in his touch, of abdicating control over her senses to his desires – it was still in the forefront of her thoughts.

 

“I want to taste you, Ginny.”

 

 “You mean you want to put your mouth…”  

 

He nodded.  “Does that frighten you?”

 

_Oh, dear Lord.  I’m going to pass out!  I might orgasm before he even gets my knickers off!  Oh, yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Yes!  No.  No.  What are you thinking?_   Her head nodded along with the voice inside of her responding that she was both for it and spooked at the same time.

 

“You know I’ve never done this either.  It’s new for me, too.  I just want to make you feel good and there are no worries about…you know…doing it this way.”

 

“I realize I can’t get pregnant from doing this, but it’s still scary.  Well, maybe not scary, but I just have to get used to the idea.”

 

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but if you don’t want to, it’s alright.  We can just kiss some more.”

 

Harry crawled back up, finding her lips again.  He didn’t appear to be bothered or ‘put-out’ by the fact that she had hesitated.  It was one of Harry’s best qualities – his concern for others.  Her mother’s warnings about boys who pressure girls into sex, well they weren’t warranted in this situation.  He left it all up to her and that was immediately reassuring.

 

She lapsed back into that state of tingling heat, concentrating on the way his open mouth hovered over hers, just barely brushing her lips, his tongue very softly, reaching into hers.  His kisses were just like his words.  They asked, they never pressed.  They waited for acceptance and then explored carefully, tenderly.  Her eyes would open intermittently to find either his soft dark lashes or those bright green orbs above her.  His skin was warm and smooth under her hands as they ran up his arms, stroking the definition that was now apparent in his biceps.  Those same hands glided over his back and down toward his waist.  Her fingertips seemed to act of their own free will and slid under the waistband of his jeans, needing to know if he was just as soft under there.  As her palms slid farther under the denim, finding an increasing warmth, unexpected pleasures pulsed through her.   She wanted to move lower, to feel what he was like under there.

 

Harry pulled his lips back from hers and studied her face, probably trying to decipher where her touch was leading.  It dawned on her that she had never asked his permission to explore this new territory.  Of course, it was expected that boys would ask permission, not girls.  Still, Ginny somehow considered that a double-standard and almost chided herself for being so bold and not considering his feelings first.

 

Still, he didn’t look scared or hesitant but her hands stopped and withdrew to rest on his waist.  It struck her how he obviously wanted to feel her in the same way she did him.  In her mind, the moment had come to allow them that opportunity.  The trust in their intimacy had deepened and everything suddenly felt right, those thoughts no longer in conflict with her body’s urgings.

 

“Harry, can you take my jeans off?  I want you to…” she swallowed with difficulty.  The words didn’t want to be voiced and she opened her mouth again and closed it, her breathing a bit shallow.

 

“Are you sure?” His face had brightened, but that ever present sense of morals showed itself again.

 

Well, if the words wouldn’t work, she decided to just nod her approval and offer a smile of encouragement, even though her heart still thumped loudly in her chest with apprehension.

 

She watched as he sat up, looking like a kid about to open some fantastic birthday present.

 

Her jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped with a practiced ability that Ginny didn’t understand.  She was sure that trying to do the same to him would leave her a shaking mass of goo.  Still, he hooked his fingers over the top of the waist band and began to tug them down.  She raised her hips and they slid past, revealing the pink rosebuds on the side of her now arousal-stained knickers.  In a flash, he crawled down toward her ankles, grasping the hem of her jeans and pulled them free of her legs.  They landed in a heap on the floor and Ginny unconsciously pulled her legs back together and, surprising even herself, she pulled herself up to a semi-seated position against the pillow and drew her legs a bit to the side.

 

She almost chided her eighteen years for acting so immature, her desires driving her forward, her fears holding her back.  The internal battle had to be frustrating for Harry as well and there were times she was sure he would just give up on her.  However, he never had, instead displaying infinite patience and tenderness.  Just as at the present moment.  He crawled up and sat by her side, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek.

 

“You look scared.  I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.”

 

His face showed definite concern, even more strongly than the desire that stirred just beneath it.

 

“Um…it’s just that this is new and I’m not quite accustomed to it.”  Her arms now finally came to rest on his biceps.

 

“That’s part of what makes it so exciting.  Still, I’ll stop if this makes you feel uncomfortable.”

 

“I’m sorry, Harry.”  She leaned into his hand, the warmth a soothing presence on her cheek.

 

“Shh.  There isn’t anything to be sorry about.”  His other hand reached up and he kissed her tenderly.  “You are well worth the wait.”

 

Hearing that brought a smile to her face and it also addressed many of her fears and concerns.  Hearing him say that meant that he truly understood her.  Feeling relieved and still very excited, she whispered, “do you want to take these knickers off or should I?”

 

If fire were green, then his eyes were blazing jade.  With one smooth move, her hips were in his hands and he pulled her down the mattress, demonstrating a strength and power that felt exhilarating.  Her head even cleared the pillow and she eeked out a surprise.

 

His lips were on her stomach again, then her hips, then her thighs.  They were everywhere, his hands touching her, his lips sucking, biting, leaving trails of shivers in their wake.  Expecting to feel his hands tug at the elastic, instead a finger slid under the edge of her knickers, sliding through the soaked bush of red curls.  Placing a soft, wet kiss on her stomach, he finally started to carefully roll the garment off of her, but once it cleared her hips, he drew it down with great speed and threw it over his shoulder.

 

It was an impulse, but she couldn’t help but keep her knees together, feeling silly doing so, but not wanton enough to do the opposite.  Harry grabbed her ankles and crawled between them, kissing the insides of her calves, taking his time as he moved north.  She felt his hands on her thighs, easing them apart with a firm yet tender pressure and then his body wedging between her knees.

 

The anticipation was absolutely killing her and she forced herself to do the impossible.  She lifted one leg and let the other fall open.  He actually gasped looking at her.  “Gin, you are so beautiful.”

 

Feeling the bed shift, Harry settled himself, placing her knee over his shoulder and then she felt his hands.  First a finger slid down through the wetness and then his thumbs pulled her lips apart.  Other than the cool air on her hot, moist center, all was still for a few seconds and she guessed he was examining her.  She realized that she would do the same when she finally saw all of him.  When his tongue brushed across her clit, she couldn’t help but moan and tense her hips.  Soon, his mouth was working in earnest on her, his tongue making constant trips across her wet slit, then sucking gently on her hardening nub.  

 

It was exquisite torture and she fisted the duvet as her pelvis shifted up against him.  

 

“Hmm.  You like that, huh?”

 

“How did you learn how to do this, Harry?”

 

His tongue paused to speak to her, but his finger tip continued to stroke her, now finding the bottom of her clit and circling it, slow and steady.

 

“A bit of reading.  I didn’t learn it from any other girls, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

 

The incredible prickle of nerves continued, heightened when he would draw his other finger gently down her moist entry.  Her need for him to bring her to completion was becoming insistent.

 

“Harry, if you stop, I’m going to kill you.”

 

“Oh, I won’t stop until I hear you scream.”

 

That statement brought another moan of delight from her lips.  He then went back to work, now fully concentrating on her clit, gently biting and sucking.  She could actually feel her juices dripping down the inside of her thighs as he ate her out.  The pressure and ache were increasing.  She could feel it in the depths of her pelvis and she knew it wouldn’t be long.  Her hips began an involuntary rhythm, rocking against him, begging for more contact, driving herself against him with increasing speed and force.  A hand reached down to his head, holding him firmly in place, feeling her clit harden against his unrelenting tongue.

 

It was building and her hips raised up, the muscles tense to the point of convulsing, urging her body on when he pressed a finger against her hot opening, begging for entry. 

 

“Yes, yes.”

  
He finally slid it inside.  

 

“Yes!”  

 

That did it, for the wave of pressure exploded over her and she cried out in lustful want.  Her vagina clamped down on his intruding finger, her clit pulsing against his hot mouth as wave after wave crashed over her.  Every muscle strained as she shuddered with release, her gasps and moans filling the room.

 

She didn’t realize until she started to come back down that her hand had a very firm grip on Harry’s hair and she quickly released him, her arms falling back in surrender.  The aftershocks continued, a quick pulse, then another, her sensitivities so increased that having Harry just lick her gently caused her to cry again.

 

He stopped, allowing her to catch her breath.  She felt so sated she was sure her body had sunk completely through the bed even as the last few pulses washed over her.  Her eyes refused to open, but she felt him move from the bed and a moment later she heard him call out a quick cleaning spell and the stickiness was gone.

 

Then the sheet shifted and drew up over her and she opened her eyes to see him sitting on the bed next to her, smiling at her, his hair a delightful mess and she knew the love she felt for this man was overpowering.

 

“Feel good?” he asked.  

 

“Incredible.”  She smiled back and reached up to stroke his arm, fully intent on starting up round two as soon as her limbs would function again.

 

He bent over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, something she considered sweet, but she looked back a bit bewildered.  She knew that at this point, he had to be dying inside his pants and she had every intention of taking advantage of that fact, but he looked serene and happy sitting on the bed.

 

“Why don’t you get some sleep.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know we both have to get up for work tomorrow.  I’ll just grab a pillow and a blanket and hit the sofa.”

 

“Harry, no.  I mean, you must be so uncomfortable and…”

 

“I’m fine, Gin.  I’ve been wanting to do that to you for ages and I’m happy.  You can take care of me another night.”

 

She started to lift herself up, the sheet falling away from her nude body.  “Harry.”  She slid her hand along his cheek, not sure what to say.  With one more kiss, this time to her lips, he drew back and snatched the extra pillow from the bed.

 

“Sleep well, love.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

A quick click of the door and he was gone.  She crashed back against the pillow, completely fulfilled and yet confused about what had just happened.

 

*** 

 

Harry made his way to the living room, stripping off his jeans and tossing them on a nearby chair.  He slipped his t-shirt back on and punched the pillow as he sat down.  A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he rested his head against the back of the sofa.

 

Ginny was right, he was _very_ uncomfortable, his cock had nearly burst in his pants just from the pressure of the fabric.  However, he knew his actions were right.  Yes, she drove him crazy with desire and he did want her to touch him, to do for him what he had done for her.  The fact was, Harry knew that if she did go through with it and with her lying there naked, he would have to possess unnatural powers of restraint to keep from burying himself inside of her.  He just wasn’t sure that he had that kind of control at the moment and so, he opted for the safe route.

 

The need to be with her, to feel her, to make her scream like she did, it was all he thought of.  Well, almost.  Lately, he had done a lot of thinking about things beyond the bedroom.  Lying there before, looking at her so beautiful and trusting of him, his mind wandered back to what he had told Ron.  He was going to ask her, hence the invitation for dinner Friday night.  This would give him a few days to make things perfect.  She deserved to have a proposal that was as romantic and heartfelt as he could design.

 

At first he considered a cold shower to try and drive away the throbbing ache below, but decided sleep was in order.  He was just about to tip over and test the cushions when he heard a noise from the Floo and heard Ron’s voice coming through. 

 

“Harry?  Harry, are you up?”

 

“Yeah, Ron.”

 

“Can I come over for a little bit?”

 

“Sure.”

 

A moment later, Ron appeared in the foyer with a soft pop.  He looked unsettled, but offered a weak smile as he approached the sofa.  Seeing Harry with his blanket in tow must have prompted some questions.

 

“What did you do?”  Ron sat down on the side chair.

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

 

“I mean, why are you sleeping on the sofa?  Did you do something to tick her off?”

 

“Oh, um…no.”  Harry thought for a brief moment on what and how much to tell Ron.  Here was Ginny’s much larger brother, prone to protective outbursts over his sister and he was in his boxers on the sofa.  “I’ve been sleeping on the sofa whenever she comes over to stay here.”

 

“Really?  Not that this bothers me because the thought of my sister doing…you know…isn’t something I want to think about, but I just assumed that you two were…sleeping together.”

 

“No, we’re not.  So, what’s up?  Why the late night visit?”  Harry desperately tried to steer the conversation back to something less uncomfortable.

 

“Oh, yeah.  Well…I just need to talk, you know?”

 

“About Hermione?”

 

Ron kept his focus on the floor, his hands clasped together.  “I think I did something stupid tonight, but I’m not sure.”

 

“If you mean allowing that tall brunette to hang all over you at the pub, well, I would consider that stupid.  But it looks like Hermione put her in her place pretty quickly.”

 

“That’s just it.  Did you see what she did?”  Ron stood up and started pacing the length of the fireplace, his disquiet now displayed freely for Harry to witness.

 

Harry shifted forward, sitting on the edge of the sofa as his friend wore a path in the rug.

 

“I heard her talking to the girl.  She sounded a bit jealous, if you ask me, mate.”

 

Still pacing, he spoke without even a pause.  “Hermione grabbed my arse.”

 

“You’re kidding.”  Now Harry’s attention was peaked, watching his mate run a hand through his hair in what he could only describe as exasperation.

 

“Yeah, right there in the pub in front of everyone.  Who would have thought that Hermione was into bum snatching!  So, anyway, I walked her home, right?  And, we got to her flat and she invited me in and she put on some music and the next thing you know we’re dancing.”

 

Harry felt like he was watching a tennis match as Ron kept moving left to right and back again, obviously needing to get this whole thing out of his system and soon.

 

“So, things get sort of heated and we start kissing.”  At this point it sounded like Ron was talking to himself instead of Harry, but he just let him continue to unload.  “And, she’s a bloody brilliant kisser.  I mean, she’s so soft and warm and her neck, oh, God.”

 

Ron seemed to notice he was rambling and paused to look at Harry before he continued.  “Anyway, I started thinking of what she did in the pub and how much I would love to touch her down there and…”

 

“You grabbed her bum, too.”

 

Now he stopped, his story complete.  “Well, yeah.  You should have seen the look on her face.  I mean, I tried to explain that I respected her and I apologized right away, I mean I didn’t wait or anything, but she looked so dazed.  Oh, fuck, Harry.”

 

Harry finally stood up, having finally heard the entire rant.  He pointed to the sofa and Ron seemed to take the hint and sat down.  Harry made his way toward the kitchen, finding a glass and coming back with a half-empty bottle of fire whiskey.

 

After pouring and handing a quarter full glass to Ron, he took a seat next door.  Ron tipped it down in one swig, shaking his head from the known kick that it delivered.

 

“Better?” he watched as Ron’s eyes widened at the shock to his throat and finally nodded.

“Ron, I think you might be missing something here.  Did you ever consider that Hermione might have wanted you to do that?”

 

“Are you talking about the same Hermione Jane Granger?  You know, lives with books, wears black robes, chews me out for my language.”

 

“Yes, Ron.  Remember, I’ve known her for as long as you have.”

 

“Yeah, well, obviously you haven’t been paying attention.  She has become a very uptight, proper and hard to read woman and she’s driving me to insanity!”

 

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around, Ron.  You forget that I hear things.  I talk to Ginny and she talks to Hermione.  In fact, Hermione was here earlier tonight and just like you she was unloading to her friend.”

 

“You?”

 

“No.  Ginny, of course, but I did catch part of it.  I think she was more upset that you stopped and ran off, not because you touched her like that.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Ron, come on.  You know her.  I know her.  She does have her formal side, but we’ve seen her having fun.  She really fancies you, but you treat her like she’s this untouchable thing.  Didn’t you see how she acted tonight in front of those other girls?”

 

“Well, I was a bit surprised.  Actually, it felt kind of good.”

 

“I think you need to loosen up a bit as well.  Why don’t you come out with us on Saturday?  Dress up, go dance, laugh and treat Hermione like the fun woman that she is.”

 

“You really think so?”

 

“Yeah, mate, I do.”  Harry got up and patted him on the shoulder.  “Listen, I need to get some sleep if I’m going to drag my lazy arse out of this flat in the morning.”

 

“Oh, yeah.  I’m sorry for keeping you up.”  Ron stood up and walked toward the foyer.

 

“No problem.  You can talk to me anytime you need, unless, of course, I’m snogging your sister.”

 

“Harry!  Don’t talk about that!  I’m having a hard enough thinking of her sleeping here.”

 

Harry had accompanied him to the hall and suddenly considered something.  “Um…mate, can I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course, unless it has to do with snogging my sister.”

 

“Actually, it has to do with proposing to your sister.”

 

“In that case, fire away.”

  


	3. Chapter 3 - The Bump and Grind

 

When Hermione arrived at work the next morning, she found a memo on her desk.  It was an invitation to a meeting for nine o’clock that morning.  The topic of discussion was listed as ‘A Change of Direction.’  That relayed a rather open ended topic and Hermione frowned as she read it, unsure what to think.  However, come nine, she made her way to the meeting room and found the Minister himself, along with several people she didn’t know and some other Ministry employees.  The other odd thing was the presence of a photographer sitting in the corner.

 

A tall, dark-haired man stood up and began.  “Good morning Witches and Wizards, or do you prefer Ladies and Gentlemen?”

 

The Minister answered.  “Either is fine.”

 

“Oh, good.  Well, my name is Evan Walters.  I have been hired by the Ministry to bring about a change of direction as it pertains to the Ministry’s image.  You may have heard the term ‘Perception is Everything?’  Well, my company has done a lot of work in the past few weeks analyzing the way the Ministry is perceived amongst the general wizarding population and what we’ve determined is that basically, the Ministry image is far too stodgy.  You have made your government and your employees unapproachable and not easy to work with.  We want to put a new spin on this image by projecting a happier, more accessible Ministry, open to new and fresh ideas.”

 

Hermione spoke up.  “Excuse me, but are we talking about the same Ministry?  The Ministry of Magic?  This is a government organization.  It should be very serious and besides, we just addressed the image issue six months ago...”

 

“Ah, yes.  You are Ms. Granger, correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Allow me to use you as an example?”

 

“Alright.”  A bit leery of his intentions, she agreed anyway.

 

“Demographics show that the population of the wizarding world has shifted so that the majority of witches and wizards fall in the ten to twenty two years age group.  The parents of these children were very protective during Voldemort’s years of terrorism and many older people were killed in his attacked, leaving a much younger population.”

 

He turned to face Hermione.  “You can’t be more than twenty one yourself, correct?”

 

“Twenty.”

 

“See?  You are in that demographic group and they are happy the war is over; they want to do great things, have fun and live their lives now that the threat of death has been lifted.  This is an untapped source of energy and ideas, but these people will never want to work for an organization that is perceived as ‘stuffy’ and ‘proper’ so, I’m here to change all that.”

 

He reached over and pulled a cloth off of an easel that was holding a poster.  It showed a fun-loving youthful couple, enjoying themselves in a park setting and the slogan read ‘Your New Ministry, Full of Bright Ideas.’

 

Hermione almost fell out of her chair when the Minister actually applauded.  The rest of the room seemed to follow his cue and all smiled in acknowledgement of the new advertisement.

 

“Thank you, Minister.”  Evan continued.  “We are still developing some other slogans, but we would like to use some of your own employees.  I know that the last time, Ms. Granger here was the model for your campaign and we hope to do something like that again.  So, with your permission, I’d like to take some time to get to know your employees and see which ones might best exemplify this new image.”

 

“Of course, of course.  Oh, this does sound very exciting.”  The Minister stood up and shook Evan’s hand, then clapped his hands together as he addressed the rest of the room.  “I trust that all of you will be as helpful as possible to Mr. Walters in this most promising endeavor?”

 

Everyone, including Hermione, nodded despite the fact that this whole idea seemed ridiculous and impossible.  The meeting started to break up as the Minister left the room and Hermione pushed back from the table, prepared to leave.

 

“Ms. Granger?”

 

“Yes?” She turned to find Evan standing before her.

 

“I hope this isn’t a bad time, but I was wondering if our photographer could get a couple of photos of you?”

 

“Me?”  For a fleeting second she thought that he might actually want to use her in the new ad campaign.

 

“Yes.  We’d like some photos of the ‘old’ image to use in comparison with the ‘new’ one and since you are the face of the old, stuffy, proper image, well…”

 

Normally, Hermione wouldn’t be bothered at all by being called proper, but stuffy and old were not in her personal dictionary.  She felt insulted somehow but didn’t want him to know that so she lifted her head with the appropriate level of dignity for a Ministry employee.

 

“Of course.”

 

First, she posed with a book and a quill, then looking down her nose over her glasses and in a few other various poses, each one looking more matronly than the last.  He thanked her and within minutes she was back at her desk, feeling very put out.

 

For the first time in months, she pulled off her glasses, looking at the horn-rimmed symbol of propriety and tossed them on her desk.  “I am not stuffy and old!”  Soon she had re-immersed herself in work and forgotten all about the meeting.

 

Only once that afternoon did it come back to her thoughts.  During her walk back from lunch, he heard giggles and saw Evan and his photographer talking to a very animated and very leggy Rhonda, whom she knew worked as Ron’s secretary.  If that girl was going to be the new image of the Ministry, then Hermione was inclined to just quit and find a new job.  Rhonda didn’t have a brain in her head and no amount of legs or breasts could make up for it.

 

*** 

 

When Ginny awoke Tuesday morning, she found a rose lying on the table next to the bed and a note beside it.

 

  _Gin,_

_I had to get in to work and you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you.  I may not get home until after_ _midnight_ _the next two nights so, not sure if I’ll see you._ _Can you please fill in for me at the hospital today?  I had a_ _three o’clock_ _with the children.  Tell them I’ll come in person real soon._ _Last night was fantastic.  You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I totally intend on keeping you.  I’m looking forward to our dinner date on Friday._

_I love you._

_Harry_

With a stretch and a wide yawn, she rolled out of bed and shuffled to the shower.  Managing Harry’s foundation and working with the various charities took up much of her time, but she did also work part-time doing marketing work for P&L Designs.  Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had started up their own company ‘fashions for the discriminating witch’ about a year earlier and Ginny had been hired to help promote their clothing and accessories.  Harry and Hermione had even shown her how to use the internet and she was looking to expand their operation to sell some items to Muggles as well.

 

The best part was her ability to pretty much set her own hours.  So, within thirty minutes she showered, dressed and headed out the door.  However, she took a moment to write a quick note to Hermione and sent it with Hedwig.

  _Hermione,_

_It’s Day One of our plan.  You need to meet me tonight at Harry’s flat at_ _7pm_ _sharp.  Don’t worry, he’ll be gone.  Wear some clothes that you can move in.  No robes!_ _See you then!_

_Ginny_   

Ginny headed into the store and showed Parvati the latest designs for an ad she wanted to run for them.  Then she took a look at some of their new ideas and answered some mail before heading to St. Mungo’s at three o’clock.

 

As expected, the children were disappointed when the famous Harry Potter didn’t arrive, but Ginny turned on her usual charm and told them all a fantastic tale about a girl and a diary and a giant snake.  By the time she finished, they were all enthralled by the tale and she was the hit of the day.  After producing magical lollipops for all of them, she headed off with a promise that Harry was going to come by very soon and they had better be good and concentrate on feeling better so that they could talk with him when he arrived.

 

She was home by six and threw together something quick for dinner, keeping some dessert and tea ready for Hermione.  Then she did a quick change of clothing and waited.

 

Hermione arrived on schedule, as expected, and Ginny opened the door to find her smiling, but looking a bit apprehensive.

 

“Hi!  Come on in.”

 

Ginny stood prepared in a snug fitting Muggle leotard and running shorts.  She assumed Hermione’s stares were in response to her very different attire.

 

“What are you wearing?”

 

“I told you to wear something that would allow you to move.  So, off with the robes and let’s see.”  Ginny started tugging on the sleeve before Hermione had a chance to pull the black robes off, anxious to see underneath.  What she found was a very lose pair of grey sweatpants, trainers and a gray t-shirt.  One fist rested on her hip with a hmpf.

 

“Well, we’ll talk wardrobe later in the week, but for now, this should do.”

 

Hermione glanced down at herself, a bit puzzled, but Ginny was already launching into the next speech.

 

“First of all, did you eat dinner?”  She moved toward the kitchen, Hermione following.

 

“Yes, I had something.”

 

“Good.”  Ginny thrust a water bottle into Hermione’s hand and marched toward the sideboard where Harry had a CD player. She flipped a couple of switches and some hard pumping music came on, filling the flat.  “Lesson one.  Dancing.”

 

Hermione looked like she was prepared to object, but for whatever reason, she kept her mouth shut and just nodded at Ginny.

 

“If we’re going to the club, then you have to know how to dance.  And, this isn’t waltzing around the ballroom.  This is sexy dancing.”  Ginny started to swing her hips back and forth making Hermione’s eyes grow wider.

 

“No arguments!  You want to be like those girls at the pub?  You want to win Ron for good?  Then, you listen to me.  By Saturday night you’ll be dancing like a pro.”

 

“I’m not sure, Ginny.”

 

“It’s easy.  Come on.  Like this.”  Ginny started to demonstrate, pushing her hips to each side with the beat of the music and then she walked around behind Hermione and put her hands on her hips, forcing her to do the same.

 

They kept this up for nearly thirty minutes until Hermione was breathing pretty hard and they took a break to gulp down the contents of their water bottles.

 

“Next.  Attitude.  Dancing is nothing without attitude.  It’s not enough to just swing your hips.  You have to have the look.  You have to feel sexy.  Do you understand?”  Ginny explained.

 

Hermione just looked blankly, but once again Ginny started to demonstrate, walking across the room like a model on a runway.  “Use your bum, your hips, and your boobs to your advantage.”

 

“Ginny!”  Hermione froze, mouth open, expression totally aghast at the comment, but Ginny just kept going.  

 

“Swing your hair around.”  She did and cried out a gleeful, “Whoo!”

 

Soon Hermione caught on and started mimicking Ginny and it wasn’t long before a big smile started to creep across her face.  Hermione was starting to enjoy this and Ginny could clearly see it.

 

“Now.  For the ‘piece de resistance’” Ginny added with a French accent.  “The bump and grind.”  

 

Ginny waved her wand and a mannequin appeared in the room.  It was Ron’s height and had his smile, but it didn’t move.  Ginny charmed it so that it almost appeared real.  She approached the pseudo Ron and began to rock her pelvis toward him, then rolling around to shake her bum at him.  Suddenly she stopped, looking at the smiling false face.

 

“Yuck.”  Doing this to her brother, mannequin or not, was too disgusting.  Hermione giggled at her look of distaste before Ginny gestured back to Hermione.  “Go on.  You try.”

 

Hermione took a breath as if to steady her nerves and walked up to the mannequin.  Starting out more reserved, her body soon fell into a groove as the music pumped.  Soon that mannequin had been treated to the sexual experience of its short, plastic life, that is until she bumped and ground a bit too hard and toppled him over.

 

The girls both broke out into uproarious laughter, out of breath and giggling at the now prone form of Ron, still with the grin on his face.  Hermione even went so far as to kiss the plastic lips and joke.  “Oh, Ron.  You big stud muffin!”

 

They continued on for another hour, breaking once for tea and dessert.  Then Ginny suggested a bit of choreography and she pulled out a specific song and started working with her to lay out a dance that they could do for the boys on Saturday.

 

By the end of the evening, Hermione was laughing, sweating and having a general good time.  This was the lightest Ginny had seen her friend in a long time and it made her feel good.  By ten o’clock they were both tired and needed a shower.

 

Ginny sent Hermione off with instructions to practice and that they would meet again the next night at seven o’clock for another go.

 

With Hermione gone, she took a few minutes to straighten up, not wanting to leave a mess in Harry’s flat.  She had promised her parents that she would be home by eleven tonight, but she was so hot and sweaty that a quick shower was in order.

 

Ginny laughed, stripping off her clothes as the shower heated, examining the room.  This truly was a ‘bachelor pad’ for there wasn’t a flower in the place; instead shaving supplies, and men’s cologne – her gift from Christmas and very masculine colors.  She didn’t have any of her regular soap or shampoo, but took a quick whiff of Harry’s and found it smelled pretty good.

 

A moment later she stepped into the warm shower, enjoying the heat rushing over her, washing away three hours of perspiration and soothing her muscles.  She had just slipped under the spray to wet her hair when a cool breeze met her back.  Spinning around, she frantically wiped the water from her eyes, knowing her wand was not within reach and frightened of the possible consequences.  

 

The pounding in her heart was intense and when she finally saw the reason for the cool air, her heart had no reason to slow down.  Harry was standing shirtless, holding the door open, his glasses steamed up, looking totally scrumptious.  His eyes wandered without hesitation over her naked form, water dripping from her breasts.  She reflexively raised a modest arm across her chest and turned to the side.

 

“Harry!  You scared me!”  she said, wiping her eyes.  “You said you’d be gone until late.”

 

“I’ll come home early every night if I’m going to find you naked in my shower.”

 

She blushed, a full rosy hue, only complimented by the moisture and her hair that was now a deep copper in the water.

 

“So, can I join you?” he asked with a somewhat innocent expression.  Ginny wasn’t sure if she should be stunned or thrilled and her face must have shown it for he continued.  “Well, this is my flat and I do need a shower.”

  _He wants to get in the shower with me.  Naked.  Yes, Ginny, of course he’ll be naked.  You do want to see him naked, don’t you?  It’s just a shower.  Let him in._  

Maybe it was inspired foresight, but she nodded, sensing an awareness of the pleasures to come.  “Sure.”

 

Harry offered a somewhat mysterious grin and removed his glasses, folding them carefully before setting them on the counter.  She stood transfixed as he released the button on his denims.  That zipper sounded louder than the water currently splashing off of her back and her eyes grew even wider.  As soon as they cleared his hips, Ginny stiffened almost as much as Harry based on the obvious tent in his boxers.

 

Although the idea of seeing him in all his glory had been a frequent visitor to her recent thoughts, the fact that it was literally staring her in the face made her pause.

 

“Um…Harry?”

 

His thumb had already looped around the elastic and was divesting him of his remaining clothes with great haste.  Ginny got her first glimpse of a fairly erect man.

 

“Oh!”  Harry must have thought he was witnessing some fantastic underwater adventure, because her arms began waving like an octopus.  The one covering her breasts went over her eyes, but then she realized the mistake and the other hand left the door for her breasts.

 

The image of his bared manhood had truly derailed her thought process.  The hand over her face jumped to her crotch, her eyes still squeezed shut.  Looking back at this moment, Ginny knew she would feel so stupid, but she just couldn’t look.

  _Ginny!  Compose yourself.  You’re acting like a little girl!_

Once again, Harry’s soothing words and gentle touch were her escape.  A hand swept her hair back from her face and she knew he was standing directly in front of her.

 

“Ginny, it’s okay to look.  I don’t mind and besides it’s getting kind of cold out here.”

 Eyes still shut and hands still in place, she scooted back from the door until she felt the wall of the shower brush her back and the spray return to her shoulder. 

The sound of the door latching made her jump, but she opened one eye at the same time she felt the back of his hand slide over her cheek.

 

Licking her lips, she wiped back a wet strand of hair from her face.  It was true.  She wanted to see him, but somehow that idea also brought her closer to the realization that having him naked with her may put her virginity in definite peril.  With each passing day, her resolve on the issue grew weaker.  Her desire of these unknown pleasures, the sacredness of the act of sharing themselves tested her will.   

 

Her other eye opened to find him smiling brilliantly at her.  

 

“It’s not that scary, sweetheart.  See?”  He pulled back to give her viewing room, still grinning as he watched her gaze drift down.  Her lip involuntarily slid between her teeth and her fingertips reminisced on the softness they had encountered the night before under his waistband just as she finally got her first good look.

 

Standing in a trance, her eyes studied him.  Dark pink, quite thick and standing at definite attention, something she was sure had to do with her current state of undress.  

  _That’s supposed to fit inside me?  You’ve got to be kidding!_  

With only the sound of rushing water and her own racing heart to fill her ears, she watched the droplets land on his tip and trail down leaving tiny paths through the dark hair surrounding him.  With a stuttered breath, she met his eyes, neither one of them moving.  The intensity of his gaze begged for permission to proceed.  With a slow blink, a drop of water slid down his dark lash line.  When his lid opened, it was accompanied by a grin and her shoulders sunk with released tension as a similar expression raised her cheeks.

 

His smile always put her at ease and she returned to reality, the water tingling once again.  She still stood in modesty, but her mind at least began to function again.

 

“So?” he asked.

 

“Very impressive,” she grinned back.

 

His right hand took a gentle hold on her wrist.  “Don’t hide this beautiful body from me.”  He pulled her arm down to reveal two very moist breasts.  His other hand simply slid around her waist, creating a wedge that required her other hand drop from between her legs.

 

The reminder of her childishness returned.  “Sorry.”  Dreaming about these things and doing them for the first time were two very different monsters.  Even though Harry only bested her by one year, she continued to feel immature in her actions towards him.  Again, she was pleasantly surprised when this didn’t seem to faze him a bit, his expression never changing.

 

“I missed you.”  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

 

She smiled back.  “I missed you, too.  Um…I hope you don’t mind…I mean, Hermione and I were dancing and I got kind of sweaty and…”

 

“Does it look like I mind?”

 

“Um…no.”

 

“Why don’t you turn around and I’ll wash your back.”

 

_That sounds pretty harmless._

 As he reached for the soap, she turned her back toward him.  A second later, she felt him gather her hair in his grip and sweep it around her neck.  Then the silkiness of the soap coating his palms spread over her back.  They glided up her spine and over her shoulder blades, then back down to her waist.  It was relaxing and thrilling at the same time, but she felt relatively calm considering her back was somewhat neutral territory. 

That neutrality dissolved the moment the soap spread over her bum.  He caressed her hips, rounding down under her bottom and then a single finger slid between her cheeks, just brushing the back of her entrance before it stroked up.

 

“Ah,” softly escaped her lips as her hands searched the wall for support.  This was followed by a stirring deep within her belly and she felt the flow of something besides water between her legs.

 

He closed the distance between them and her chest constricted when she felt the pressure of his hardness against her back.  The next moment, her thumping chest threatened to go into full cardiac arrest when his hands glided over her pelvic bones, across her stomach and down into the triangle of curls.  At the same time, he bent his knees and the tip of his cock just grazed against her thigh, dragging back up her arse.

 

She turned quickly in his arms, alarmed by these new sensations.  It would only take one quick move, one bent knee and she could give herself over to his needs.  Her needs.  Their needs.  They were fast becoming one passionate soul, united in desire and craving that which only the other could give.  The possibility frightened her virginal senses and it must have shown clearly on her face.

 

“Too fast?” he asked, his eyes bright, but concerned.

 

Her small hands were resting on his chest, the dark hair soft on her palms.  “I just can’t, Harry.  Not yet.  I know you want this and God, I want you, too.”

 

“I know.  I’m nervous too, Gin.  I’m dying to know what it’s like to be inside you, but I’d never, ever do it if you aren’t ready.”

 

She struggled to catch her breath, the panic rising within her.  It wasn’t fear of his intentions; it was the fear of loosing him.  How many times had she turned away, stopped his advances and she considered that one of these times he might just stop trying altogether.  He might go searching for some other, older woman, who would be more willing to fulfill his needs.  He was everything to her and she was pushing him away.

 

Still, last night he had brought her to such incredible heights of pleasure and then walked off to the sofa.  She wanted to do something for him, to show him her desire to be with him, to push him off that cliff of bliss where she had fallen yesterday.

 

“Well, you said last night that I could take care of you another time.  So, how about now?”  

 

Even though her own suggestion made her nervous, for she really didn’t know what to do next, she was thrilled to see that perhaps for the first time, Harry looked totally paralyzed with anticipation.  Sensing that she wasn’t the only one flustered over these new experiences made her feel much more courageous.

 

“Why don’t you turn around and I’ll wash _your_ back.”  Ginny suggested.  

 

Harry raised a curious eyebrow before doing as asked.

 

She grabbed the soap and prepared to return the gesture, coating her hands with soft bubbles before placing them on his back.  The ‘RMS Ginny’ left port and navigated the rippling waves of muscle that adorned his back and shoulders.  She’d obviously seen him shirtless before, but somehow his strength was magnified to her fingertips as she steered over his triceps, massaging him gently.

 

Who knows where it came from, but the idea that thousands of women around Britain were all jealous of her right now flashed through her thoughts and she couldn’t help the flushed smile that filled her.  Even more so when her hands returned his gesture, sweeping over his hips, cupping his tight arse and just grazing the back of his testicles as she ran a soft finger up the center.  

 

He sucked in a sharp breath and turned his head to the side, catching her in his peripheral vision.  She leaned closer, her soap-filled hand wrapping around to stroke over his nipple and whispered in his ear.

 

“Turnabout is fair play.”

 

“Absolutely,” he replied, swiftly spinning around and sliding his palms against hers, the white silky bubbles and smell of spice between them.

 

With one glance down, his mouth found her breast and sucked off the water droplets like they were his oasis in the desert.  His quick movement caused her feet to slip beneath her and she eeked out as a burst of adrenaline pulsed through her, but Harry wrapped both arms around her tightly, his strength her instant haven of safety.     

 

She laughed, breaking the lustful tension for a moment.  The water had sprayed over her face again and she squinted, trying to clear her view.  He must have sensed her predicament because he turned her around placing himself in the stream so that she could wipe her eyes and calm down for a second.

 

“I love to hear you laugh,” he stated.  His smile filled her with such joy as his thumbs wiped the water from her cheeks.  One thumb slid over her lips, casually rolling off her lower lip with the tiny droplets of moisture.

 

Not knowing what prompted her to take such action, she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his thumb, sucking off all the water as her tongue circled it.  She felt so completely sexy, her thoughts turning only toward ways to seduce her man.

 

The patch of dark hair on his chest just begged to be touched and she twirled her finger through it.  Then she spied a very tight nipple poking through the hair and pulled it between her lips.  Could she elicit a noise from him with just her tongue?  A quick flick and, sure enough, he groaned.

 

“Ginny.”

 

Releasing him, she dared a glance at his face and saw those same fiery green eyes, alight with passion and wonder as she lathered her palms over his back once more.

 

Her eyes focused on a droplet of water that slid down the dark hairs of his chest, weaving over his rippled stomach and into the thicker patch spread out above his very attentive cock.  She took a good long look, contemplating her next move.  

 

“Do you like what you see?” he asked as his palms slid up her stomach, each gliding over a breast, messaging it tenderly into a coat of creamy bubbles.

 

“Very much.”  She swallowed with difficulty as his fingers slid over her collarbone and then back down the sides of her breasts, his thumbs trailing over her nipples.  

 

“You can touch it, if you want to.”

 

“Oh, I intend to.”  She said in her most sultry voice, feeling very playful at this point and very much wanting to get a reaction out of him.

 

Palm to palm, she pressed her hands into his, allowing the soap to slide through her fingers and decided to give him something back for his wonderful gift from the night before.

 

Her hands glided down that trail of hair the followed the definition of his abdominal muscles.  One hand continued the journey, inching down his thigh and coming up from below to cup his balls, soaping him up to her delight.  His eyes were so bright that she couldn’t leave them and instead felt her way down, her other hand finally gripping his swollen member, the soap giving her easy movement up and down.  He sucked in a breath and those eyes finally found rest within him as his lids closed over them and his head fell back.

 

“Oh, please.”   His breathing was coming in shorter bursts now and she thought back to what he had said to her the night before.

 

“Please what, Harry?  Do you want me to make you come?” she asked in her sultriest voice.

 

“God, yes.”

 

“Well, since you’ve asked so nicely.”

 

If cleanliness was godliness then Harry would be Zeus by the time she was done with him.  She explored every engorged centimeter. Gently running her hands over him, first allowing the silky sensation of the soap to guide her, then turning stronger, her hands greedily working together to cover his arse, his balls and his cock until he finally slapped his palms against the walls in support and cried out hoarsely, his control apparently ready to slip.

 

Sensing that he was nearing an explosive end, she stepped aside and allowed the water to run over his stomach and rinse the soap from him, carefully guiding the stream into all the right places, continuing her gentle stroking.  When she felt him sufficiently void of soap, she dropped down to her knees in front of him and noticed that his eyes were open again.

 

With only books and courage to guide her, she decided that she wasn’t going to let her inexperience deter her from giving him the ultimate pleasure. 

 

Harry’s eyes were truly a window to his soul and somehow the thought of him watching her do this was so revealing of his love for her.  She knew the gesture was meant to demonstrate her love for him, but his trust in her, standing naked before her returned a bond a love that she felt growing by the minute.

 

Grasping the shower head, he redirected the spray to the side and clutched at the wall as she slowly dragged the plane of her tongue up the side of his cock.  One glance at his face and she felt awash in love for she knew from his expression that she was bestowing on him the same exquisite torture that he had given her the night before.

 

Not sure what to expect, the tip of her tongue reached out and flicked against his slit, just getting a taste, a salty sample of how he felt.  His hips jerked toward her with a lusty moan, a tiny pool of pre-cum trickling out.  Then one more stroke up the side, sensing his smooth hardness and feeling totally turned on by it.

 

“Hmmm.” He groaned again and his cock began to dance as his tight stomach and thighs rocked him toward her, his hand reaching down to guide her head.

 

Feeling bold and totally sexy, she wrapped her lips around his foreskin and swirled her tongue around the top once before releasing it.  Harry’s earlier frenzy seemed to infuse her with lust and she took a deep breath and slid her mouth down as far as she could go, filling her mouth with his hard heat.

 

“Oh, fuck!” he cried out.

 

She smiled as her lips slid back up the sides, her teeth gently grazing the head as it plopped out of her mouth. 

 

“Gin.”  His breath was short and raspy.  “I’m not going to last long if you do that again.”

 

He must have thought that telling her this would somehow deter her, but instead it only emboldened her resolve.  She wanted him to scream just as he had made her the night before.  The idea of forcing such pleasure onto him was overshadowing all else and her mouth slid over him again.  She pulled in her cheeks creating as much suction as possible and again wrapped her tongue around him as he slid out, but this time she replaced her mouth with her hand, giving him no loss of sensation.  A few more pumps and his breath started to quake, his tight thighs quivering as he rocked.  She was aware of the impending release but didn’t know the signs to watch for so, she dared one more flick over his head as her hand slid up and down and then she pulled back just as he threw his head back and cried out.  

 

“FUCK!”

 

His now throbbing cock pulsed out a jet of cream that hit his stomach, then her neck, the remainder spilling over her hand.  He grunted once more as his body jerked out the last of it.  She stopped immediately, somewhat surprised by this explosion and not sure if she should let go.  Luckily, the small seat in the corner of the shower was there to hold him as he slid down the wall and she carefully freed her hands.  Totally spent, his breath began to slow as his palms dragged along the porcelain, now longer able to support him.

 

“Well, that must have felt good.”

 

He only managed a nod, his eyes still closed.  Ginny watched him for a moment, knowing her own need to regroup and waited patiently for him to recuperate.  She stood up and grabbed the handheld portion of the shower head, prepared to rinse them off when his eyes opened, looking weak and completely content.

 

She glanced down at the white cream coating her hand and reached out the tip of her tongue to taste it.  For her this was something new and she was interested, but for him it must have meant something else for his reaction shocked her.

 

“Bloody Fuck, Gin.  You’re going to drive me insane, do you know that?”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you know how sexy that is?  You can’t possibly imagine how many of my fantasies just became real.”

 

She shrugged.  “Well, you wanted to taste me.  I want to taste you.”

 

Turning the water toward both of them, she washed away the evidence of their wanton encounter.  As Harry still seemed unable to move and she still needed to get clean, she replaced the shower head in its holder and turned around, grasping the shampoo bottle.  Facing away from Harry, she lathered up her hair, giving him a perfectly enticing view of her backside and she thought she might extend the torture session by washing her hair with as much sensuality as possible.

 

It must have worked because his hands were on her hips in a flash, just as she finished rinsing it out.  He spun her around, finally on his feet and reached behind her to turn off the water.  Considering how exhausted he had looked just moments earlier, she was startled to find him flushed and becoming erect again as he stood before her.

 

This time he reached around her and pulled her close for a very loving kiss.  He rested his forehead against hers, the water dripping down their noses between them.

 

“Gin.  Will you spend the night with me?”

 

His request was so full of love and devotion, it nearly took her breath away and she felt horrible knowing that she had promised her parents about being home tonight.

 

“Harry, I’d love to, but…”

 

“But you can’t.”

 

“I promised Mum and Dad that I’d be home tonight.  You know I’d love to stay with you, but I just can’t this night.  I’m sorry, love.”

 

He pressed the door open and grabbed the towel hanging on the hook.  Wrapping it around her shoulders, his hands began to dry her face and arms.  It seemed that he was looking for a distraction, something to keep his heart occupied and focused on anything besides her refusal.  Ginny saw his disappointment and lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her.

 

“Harry, I love you.  I love you with all my heart and we will be together soon, I promise.”

 

“I know.”  He stepped out of the shower, grabbing another towel and she followed, both drying off in the steamy room.  Ginny dressed and grabbed her things, ready to depart just before eleven, feeling a terrible hurt in her heart for she knew his sadness.  It was matched by her own for she truly wanted to be with him.  For a brief second she thought of Floo calling her parents, but she knew what the response would be.  It would just cause more hurt and a loss of respect for both her and their future relationship so, she scrapped the idea.

 

With a final soft kiss, she Apparated, arriving at the Burrow at two minutes of eleven, gnawing her lip in thought.


	4. Chapter 4 - How to Walk in Three Inch Heels

Wednesday

 

Waking up at the Burrow, Ginny lie in bed, visions of Harry’s face from the night before unwilling to leave her.  She knew he had left for work and would be gone for another long day, but she longed to speak to him.  Her promises of love seemed so empty when she wasn’t there with him to enforce the pledge.  The all-encompassing closeness she felt when he asked her to stay with him last night tore at her.  Harry always accepted her hesitations without complaint, but last night he looked truly dejected, nearly crushed in his silence.

 

After all, a boy raised in a cupboard probably learned how to deal with disappointment on a very personal, very internal level.  Even years later, she was sure that he still drew on that inner solitude when things appeared they were going down the wrong road.  Ginny so much wanted him on the straight path to her heart; broom to the wind on the straight-a-way, the finish line her promise of eternal love and commitment.  Harry would always be her champion, no matter the race or the score and she would be his checkered flag, welcoming him home and declaring him the winner.

 

She shuffled down to breakfast, her blue fuzzy slippers revealing a painted toe nail through the worn hole at the tip.  The flannel pajama pants and tank top were her comfort clothes just like Mum’s breakfast was comfort food.  And right now, she needed comforting.  The smell of bacon drew her attention as she entered the hub of Weasley activity.

 

Just like the sun in the morning and the promise of snow at Christmas, breakfast was always there, the smells and tastes a greeting to the new day and an assurance that all was well in the world.  With a wide yawn, she rubbed her ratted hair and found an empty tea cup on the table, the pot steaming and ready.

 

“Good morning, sweetheart.”  She smiled at her Mother’s phrase, realizing that Harry had used those same words on her just a few days before.  Somehow, the motherly connotations were lost in Harry’s translation, replaced instead by the desire for a smoldering kiss.  Regardless, she answered.

 

“Good morning, Mum.”

 

“You hair is a mess this morning.  Do you need some help combing it out?”

 

“Oh, well, it wasn’t quite dry when I went to bed last night.”

 

“Yes, that will do it.  Why was it wet?”  Molly had scraped a heaping of scrambled eggs onto her plate and was returning the pan to its home atop the burner.

 

“I was um…exercising…with Hermione last night and we got really sweaty.  So, I caught a quick shower at Harry’s before I came home.”

 

“I thought Harry had to work?”  Two pieces of toast appeared along side her eggs, now resting on the tines of her fork.

 

“He did.  Hermione and I were just using his flat.”  A bite finally made it to her mouth.

 

“I still don’t think you should spend so much time at his flat.  Coming home is a quick little Apparition and you certainly shouldn’t be sleeping there.”

 

She dropped her fork in exasperation.  “Mum.  We’ve had this conversation before.  Harry always sleeps on the couch.  He’s a perfect gentleman.”

 

A quick sip of tea prefaced a heavy sigh; a sigh that only a mother would know, one that said ‘things are not as they should be.’

 

“So, then what’s bothering you?”

 

“Why do you think anything is bothering me?”

 

“Because I’m your mother.  I’ve always known when your nappies needed changing, your stomach was empty, your brothers were teasing.  A Mum knows these things.”

 

Ginny desperately wanted to talk, but the topic was too taboo to discuss with her Mum.  Without even considering it, she just assumed that a lecture would follow should she even remotely mention the idea of sleeping with her boyfriend.  It was much easier talking to Hermione, but her girlfriend’s degree of wisdom on the subject was probably less than her own given Hermione’s experience in the romance department.

 

She contemplated the idea of trying to talk around the real topic or to use hypotheticals, someway to get it off her mind without causing turmoil with her parents.

 

“Mum, how do you feel about Harry?  I mean…be completely honest and tell me.”

 

Mrs. Weasley creased her brow before replying.  “That’s an odd question, dear.  You know that we all love Harry.  He’s like another son to me.”  Molly turned back to the sink.

 

“Would you love him the same if he wanted to sleep with me?”  The words slipped out before she dreaded her lapse in judgment.

 

The silence in the room told her that Mum was either practicing a very long speech, the likes of which she had never experienced in her young life or she was just too shocked to voice her opinion at all.  Either way, it didn’t appear good.  With her Mother’s back toward her, Ginny examined the room for a means of escape.  If she could just get to her room and dress quickly, maybe…

 

“I guess that would depend on his feelings for you and his level of commitment.”

 

That statement nearly made Ginny fall off her chair.  It wasn’t what she had expected in the least, but it was what she so urgently needed.  A glimmer of hope spread throughout her that maybe she could talk with her mother on this and survive or more so, feel better in the end.

 

“Alright.  So, suppose that he was in love with me and I with him.  How would that influence you?”

 

Ginny glanced down recognizing the food on her plate and the fact that it was getting cold, but the conversation had somehow taken away her appetite.  Her attention was drawn up as Mrs. Weasley sat down across from her at the table.

 

“I would say that words have to be supported with actions.  He may say that he loves you and it may sound sincere.  However, he has to back that up with the proper show of commitment.”

 

She didn’t mean to sound angry with her Mother, but Ginny felt that she was forgetting their entire history.

 

“Mum.  He saved me in the Chamber.  He intentionally broke up with me to keep me safe back in fifth year.  He’s done lots of things to show his feelings for me.”

 

“Yes, dear, I know that.  I’m not saying he isn’t a wonderful boy…”

 

“A man, Mum.  He’s a wonderful man now and I’m a woman and we are a couple.  Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, dear, I do.  I believe you when you say that you love him and he may love you, too.  Just remember, the act of giving yourself over to him has big consequences, both physical and emotional.  These can be life altering events.  You have to be prepared to accept that.  You have to know that twenty years from now when you look back at this, you’ll be happy with your decision.”  Mrs. Weasley had reached over taking Ginny’s hand, trying to offer her support and Ginny was thankful that it hadn’t come in the form of a lecture.

 

Ginny simply nodded for she had nothing else to say.  It was all there, ready for her to consider and totally up to her to make that choice.  A quick pat on her hand and Mrs. Weasley was up and back to her cleaning.

 

She felt a relief that had been eluding her since the day before.  Now empowered and in control, her appetite suddenly returned with a vengeance.  Breakfast was gone and she was dressed and prepared to leave within an hour.

 

“Mum, I’ll be home later.   I’m taking Hermione shopping and then we have more exercising to do later.”  Well, it was close enough to the truth for her liking and she smiled hearing her Mother call out “Have a good day, dear.”

 

*** 

 

Ron praised the criminals for their heightened activity over the past two days, for it had kept him unusually busy.  Two assaults, one robbery in Diagon Alley and a case of fraudulent use of a wand had been reported, all falling into his lap to deal with.

 

Each incident had actually required he get out of the office and into the field for a change, again giving him a pleasant distraction from his other meanderings.  It wasn’t until he returned to do some paperwork that his thoughts were forced back to the situation with his love life.

 

“Mr. Weasley, you have three messages.”  Rhonda strode in barely seconds after he had returned to his desk.

 

“Thank you, Rhonda.” 

 

She smiled and seemed to linger for a second, causing Ron to look up at her.

 

“Is there anything else?”  He asked in a somewhat annoyed tone.

 

Her index finger pressed into the envelope she had just placed on the corner of his desk as if to point out its importance.  “No, sir.”  She did a pivot on her designer pumps and model-walked to the door.

 

Ron shook his head at her antics and finally examined the three envelopes before him.  The first was an official memo with the results of the inventory list of the shop in Diagon Alley and he opened it, skimming over the list of items that appeared to be missing before moving it to the side.

 

The familiar handwriting on the second note drew his immediate attention and he ripped open the seal, anxious and yet thrilled to receive any correspondence from her after their odd encounter two nights earlier.

 

  _Dear Ron,_

_I didn’t want you to think that I was angry with you for the other night.  What you did was unexpected, but not entirely unwanted.  Please don’t feel that you need to stay away.  I promise I won’t bite._ _Did you get the invite to Harry’s Foundation Cocktail party?  Are you going to go?_ _I’m spending tonight with a friend, but perhaps we can see each other tomorrow?_

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

“Not entirely unwanted, huh?” he mumbled to himself.  “Well, that’s a surprise.”

 

He grabbed a piece of parchment and quickly scrawled out a reply, sending it out via interoffice mail.  Wondering who the friend was that she referred to, he felt much better knowing that she wasn’t angry and wanted to see him.

 

Folding up her letter and placing it in his pocket, he finally examined the third, this one an unusual pink, and not recognizing the handwriting, he opened it up.

 

_Dear Ron,_

_I hope you don’t find this too forward of me, but I truly enjoyed our little talk the other night at the pub.  You are a handsome and delightful man and I can’t wait for our little date on Saturday night at the club._ _You are coming, right?  It will be comforting to know we have such a capable wizard and real life hero looking out for us girls that night._ _Perhaps we can have dinner beforehand?  You’re welcome to come over to my place.  I’m a good cook, I promise.  How about_ _6pm_ _._

_Yours,_

_Brittney_

“Hmm.  So that’s her name.”  Ron was preparing to write her a note offering his apologies when Harry walked in, a wide smile on his face.  Ron quickly shoved the note in his pocket and stood up to greet his friend.

 

“Hey, Ron.  Listen, they pulled me in on that robbery.  Do you have the inventory list?”

 

“Um..yeah, it just came in.  Here.”  He handed Harry the parchment.

 

“Great, thanks.  I’ll return this in a bit.  Oh, yeah, listen, here’s an invite for this charity thing tomorrow night.  My foundation is having a cocktail party and dance and you’re invited.”  Harry handed over a cream colored envelope.  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything or buy anything, but I’d like for you to be there.  Moral support or something, okay?”

 

“Yeah.  Of course.  I’d love to come.  I think Hermione mentioned it as well.”

 

“Good.  So, are you two alright then?”  Ron paused to consider his answer, reflecting back on her words in the letter.

 

“I think so.  I’m going to ask her to accompany me to your little soirée and see how it goes.”

 

“Great.  Well, listen I have to get back on this.  I heard you got assigned to that assault case out in Notting Hill.  Sounds nasty.”

 

“Well, at least it got me out of the office.”

 

“True.  Well, I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”  Harry moved swiftly, exiting his office and Ron remembered something he had to do on that Notting Hill assignment and called out to Rhonda that he would return later.

 

*** 

 

Hermione woke up feeling muscles she didn’t know she had.  All that dancing the night before had been lots of fun, but had given her more of a workout than she thought.  Still, it was a good feeling.  Dancing with Ginny and playing around with that mannequin had made her feel free and happy.  Gone were the concerns of the office and her career.  She almost left the black robes off this morning, but due to the fact that her other clothes still needed laundering; she donned the black ones again.  However, she left the glasses at home today.  Her hair still went up, but she tried a sort of messy bun instead of the slicked back version.

 

Stepping into the Ministry hallway, she was immediately accosted by a series of flyers posted on the long hallway, each with her photo and a series of messages and she read each to herself as she walked past them.

 

“Your Old Ministry.”

 

“Stuffy and Proper.”

 

“Your Mother’s Ministry.”

 

“Say Goodbye to the Old.”

 

Her mood was quickly turning from cheerful to sour when she ran head on into a set of broad shoulders.  The next thing she knew, her bum had met the hard floor, her hair knocked out of its clips, hanging loose around her shoulders.  A hand reached out toward her.

 

“Ms. Granger!  I’m so sorry!  I should have slowed down on that corner.  Here, let me help you up.”

 

Evan Walters was standing before her, a concerned look on this face.  Hermione popped back up to her feet and dusted off her robes, looking at the ground for the missing hair clip.

  
“It’s Hermione, right?”

 

“What?”  She continued searching, then finally spotted the hair accessory and picked it up.

 

“May I call you Hermione?”

 

“Oh, I guess.”

 

He seemed very happy, rocking back on his heels, his hands swept behind his waist.  “So, did you see the posters?”

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“What do you think?  A good lead in to the new campaign, don’t you think?”

 

Despite his pleasant attitude and friendly demeanor she couldn’t help but scowl.

 

“They’re not very flattering.”  She twisted her hair, attempting to get it back up.

 

“You know, you look much nicer with your hair down.”

 

One look and he must have gotten the message that his opinion in this department wasn’t required nor appreciated.

 

“Um…Hermione.  Look, you shouldn’t take any of this personally, but I’m getting the impression that you are.”

 

“Mr. Walters, how can I not take it personally when you’ve put my face on the walls with signs that say ‘old’ and ‘stuffy.’  I take it very personally.”

 

“Please, call me Evan.  Look, I can take them down if they bother you.  I never meant this as a personal attack on you, I just thought that you…” he appeared to be looking for the right words, but Hermione finished his sentence for him.

 

“are stuffy and old.”

 

“No!  Actually, I think you’re quite pretty and obviously not old.  You’re younger than me!”

 

“Well, I’m not particularly thrilled with being portrayed as some old dowdy spinster.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”  She brushed past him and took off down the hall.

 

Around ten, needing a fresh cup of tea and bit of a stretch, she pulled back from her desk just as the familiar interoffice key floated up to her desk.  Tiny little gold keys, similar to the ones they had found at Hogwarts so many years back, were used to deliver interoffice memos within the Ministry.  She snatched the note and the key hovered until a wave of her wand vanished it, delivery complete.

 

Her day improved ten fold upon seeing the masculine scrawl and she opened the note with reckless speed.

 

_Hermione,_

_Got your note.  I’d love to see you tomorrow.  Perhaps we could sneak away for lunch?_ _Yes, I got the invitation to Harry’s event.  I would be thrilled to have you as my date for the evening.  Will you accompany me?_

_Love always,_

_Ron_   

Breaking out of character, she allowed herself a moment to giggle and jump up and down, holding the note to her chest.  This was wonderful news and she quickly replied her acceptance for both lunch and the party.

 

Hours later, the tea was finished and her inbox depleted considerably.  The clock ticked away at the afternoon and she frowned at her ink-stained fingers.  That was not a lovely sight.  She would have to think of a better way to remove the stains if she was going to a cocktail party tomorrow.  Hermione heard the door to their department open, but scowled at her fingers until a large stack of flyers fluttered down to her desk.  She realized their origins and looked up.

 

“I took them all down.”

 

Evan appeared very serious, not his usual smiling self.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.”  He glanced around, obviously checking to see if they were alone and then pulled up a nearby chair.  “Hermione, look, I don’t mean to sound forward or anything, but I was just wondering if you’d have dinner with me?”

 

Hermione did her best to remember that this man knew very little about her and probably nothing of Ron.  So, she tried to be polite in her response.

 

“Evan, that’s very kind of you, but I’ll have to decline.”

 

“Drinks then?  Tea?  How about just a walk together?”

 

Just then a tap on the door revealed Ginny’s smiling face, peaking around the door.

 

“Hi, Gin!”  Hermione felt relieved for the interruption, hoping it would fend off this would-be suitor before he could launch into more invitations.

 

“Hey.”  Ginny stopped, obviously wondering who the man was sitting so close to Hermione.

 

“Ginny, this is Evan Walters.  He’s working on a project that involves me here at the Ministry.”  Ginny walked up and offered her hand.

 

“Oh, well, pleased to meet you.”  She offered her usual smile and Evan stood up, grinning back.

 

Hermione saw her chance for escape and quickly cut in.  “So, I guess it’s time to go, right, Gin?”  She grabbed Ginny’s arm, encouraging her to move faster.

 

“Um…sure.  We’re going shoe shopping.”

 

“What?”  Hermione’s eyes lit up at the idea and then realized she was about to blow her cover story.  “I mean, what a great idea!”  Her bag was in hand.  “A girl can never have too many pairs of shoes!  Well, Evan, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

 

He looked a bit perplexed.  “Sure.  Well, think about what I said, alright?”

 

Hermione nodded and practically shoved Ginny out of the department doorway.  She didn’t realize her speed until she noticed Ginny nearly jogging to keep up.

 

“What was that all about, Hermione?”  Ginny glanced back as they reached an Apparition point in the main corridor.

 

“Nothing.  So, where to?”  At this point Hermione just wanted to exit the building.  As soon as Ginny gave her the address, she disappeared with a pop, Ginny following a second later.  

 

Arriving outside a little café, Hermione pulled her inside insisting they get a cool drink and talk for a moment.  Soon they occupied a small round table in the corner.

 

“So, Gin, why are we going shoe shopping?”

 

The look she got back was the equivalent of ‘isn’t it obvious?’ 

 

“You can’t go out to the club wearing those black office shoes.  You need something fun like these.” Ginny lifted her leg to show the cute red wedge style shoes on her feet.

 

How many times had she listened to other girls chat about their shoe shopping excursions, delighted in that perfect pump, the strappy sandals or sexy sling backs?  She never could quite understand what the excitement was all about.  That was, until now. 

 

“I’ll fall off the things!”

 

“No you won’t.  I wear them and I haven’t fallen off.  Besides you’ll be able to reach your man’s lips better if you’re a bit taller.”

 

“Ginny.  Harry isn’t that much taller than you.”  

 

Ginny sat down in the nearby chair and smiled, checking the room for others before she whispered.  “He is when you’re naked in the shower with him.”

 

Hermione sucked in a breath, covering her mouth.  The shocked expression quickly gave way to a smile. 

 

“When?”

 

“Last night after you left.  He came home early.”  Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her glass.

 

“And?”

 

“And…I was getting a quick shower when he surprised me and joined in.”

 

Hermione couldn’t help the squeal of delight that popped out of her mouth.  Adding Ginny’s happiness to that of her own, the room seemed to glow with giddiness and femininity, both ladies on a romantic high, both for different reasons.

 

“Oh, my.  That is just so…so, naughty!”  Hermione giggled again and Ginny joined in for it was infectious.  Once one of them started, it didn’t stop until it had run its course.

 

“So, um…I can’t believe I’m even thinking of asking this…but, how does he look?  I mean, not the details…just overall.  On a scale of one to ten.”

 

Ginny rolled her eyes and took a quick sip.  “Oh, my God.  Try a twelve.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the prospect of anything being better than a ten on her scale.  After all, one hundred percent of anything was just that, perfect.  Just like the many tests she took, anything over one hundred was just considered extra credit.  She was still feeling pretty giddy when she noticed Ginny’s demeanor change just a bit.

 

“I felt really bad when I had to leave.  He wanted me to stay with him and the way he asked me, it just left me feeling so empty inside.  I wanted to stay.  I really did, but I had promised Mum and Dad.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it Ginny.  Harry understands and he’ll get over it soon enough.  You’ll have lots of time to be with one another.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“What do you mean, you guess?  You two are the perfect couple.”

 

“Hermione, I’m afraid that he’s going to get tired of waiting and just chuck me for one of those girls that aren’t as challenging.”

 

“Ginny, that’s ridiculous and you know it.  Harry isn’t about all that.  He loves _you!_   He’s not even looking at those other girls.”

 

“Hermione, he’s an eighteen year old man and I’m still just this unsure, immature girl that doesn’t know what she wants.”

 

“That’s a load of…” she whispered “crap.”

 

“Hermione!  You swore!”

 

“Sorry, but when my dance instructor, my idol in the how to do things sexy department tells me she’s unsure of anything, well…I’m sorry, it’s just not the case.  So, now, what about these shoes?”

 

That seemed to pull Ginny out of her thoughts and back to the task at hand.  They finished their drinks and Ginny took her to London, where they checked out several different posh stores.  Hermione returned with two pairs of very high, very sexy heels that she hoped would put her at least up to Ron’s shoulders.

 

Now came the tricky part.  How to walk in three inch heels.  After grabbing some take away and heading back to Harry’s flat, Ginny put some music on and the two of them giggled as they practiced walking like models on the runway.  Each looked silly swinging their hips in an exaggerated fashion and pouting their lips as they posed for one another.  Hermione never fell once, but Ginny did, twisting her ankle a bit.  Luckily, Hermione knew a spell that eased it almost immediately.

 

Some wild dancing ensued, similar to the night before and Ginny couldn’t help but laugh as Hermione started to cut loose.  She almost seemed a natural at it, very much finding the beat as her hair swung around.  They soon returned to their choreography and went through the routine several times until Ginny was satisfied that they would blow everyone away.

 

“Wooo!”  Ginny collapsed in the armchair, an exhausted soul.

 

“I don’t think I can wear these shoes all night, but I have to admit, they make my legs look great!”  Hermione was unbuckling one of them as she sat on the sofa catching her breath.

 

“You’re lucky you can wear those and still be miles below Ron’s height.  Makes it easier to reach his lips and still get to other things,” she grinned.

 

“Ginny!  You know you have a filthy mind.”

 

“I do not.  I have a perfectly healthy sexual attitude for a normal eighteen year old.”  It was like quoting text and Hermione was about to find out why.

 

“You sound like a book.”

 

“Which reminds me.”  Ginny crossed to a large canvas bag by the door and returned a moment later with a stack of books.  She dropped them into Hermione’s lap.  “This is your homework.”

 

Hermione read the titles.  “’How to Entice Your Man’, ‘The 21st Century Wanton Witch’, ‘101 Magical Positions’ – what is this stuff, Ginny?”

 

“What does it look like?  I told you this is all about attitude and you are just too uptight.  You’re doing great with the dancing and all that, but now you need to improve your psychological outlook on love and sexuality.”  Ginny had resumed her seat on the chair, relaxing back.

 

“You should become a therapist or something.  I think you’re wasting your talents on fashion marketing.”  She flipped one of the books open and then slammed it shut quickly.  “Ginny!  There are moving pictures in here!”

 

“Of course.  What good would they be otherwise?”

 

“Gin, how did you even get these?”

 

“Mail order.”  She got up and tapped on the top of one of them.  “I suggest you read this one first.  You’ll use it first.”  Sitting back down she continued.  “Now, I expect you to do your homework like the brilliant witch you are.  Read these cover to cover, take notes.”

 

Hermione smiled at her and pulled the mentioned book to the top.  “Is there going to be a test?”

 

“There just might be.”

 

By ten o’clock they were both tired and decided to make some popcorn and watch one of Harry’s DVDs.  Ginny was still getting used to the idea of the tiny discs, but Hermione set up the movie like a pro and soon they were into some action adventure.  Probably not due to the movie’s quality but more to the fact they had been dancing like fools earlier, both girls were dead asleep on the sofa when Harry Apparated home about midnight.

 

The room was dark except for the glow from the telly and he walked over to see both of his favorite girls snoring softly, a half-empty bowl of popcorn wedged between them.  He grinned looking at the take out containers and stacked up shoe boxes.  This must have been one wild girl’s night.

 

He gently rubbed Hermione’s leg.  “Hermione wake up.”

 

“Hmm?”  Her eyes squinted open, not entirely sure of where she was until Harry spoke again.

 

“Hermione, you fell asleep on the sofa.”

 

This time she sat up a bit quickly, knocking the popcorn all over the floor and nearly rolling off the cushion.  Harry’s quick reflexes caught her before she fell and held her firmly by the arm.  She stood up, quite wobbly and quite a bit taller than usual.  Then she lost about three inches in height just like that.  Harry glanced down to see one bare foot and one sporting a very dressy black shoe with a long heel.  Not entirely awake, Hermione seemed to be having a hard time figuring out why she couldn’t get her balance.  Tipping into him again, Harry guided her back to the sofa.

 

“Sit down.”  She did.  He bent down and carefully unbuckled the strap on the shoe as she yawned.  Slipping it off of her foot, he held it up for inspection.

 

“Sorry, Harry.  We must have fallen asleep.”  She finally got up, now able to walk and started hunting for her regular shoes.

 

“Are these new?” he asked, dropping it into one of the nearby empty boxes.

 

“Oh, yeah.”  She grabbed her robes and was attempting to collect herself.

 

Unable to hide his grin, he stood back up, still holding the box as she found her wand and started to sweep up the popcorn. 

 

“These are very sexy.  Ron should love them.”  The popcorn flew right back out of the bowl, Harry’s words forcing a very rosy blush into her cheeks.

 

“Sorry.”  She muttered, beginning her cleaning effort again.  However, Harry noticed the smile creeping across her face.  A second later the popcorn was recollected and she was ready to depart, the shoe boxes in her hands.

 

“Are you awake enough to Apparate?” he asked.

 

She yawned through “I thiiinnnkkk so.”

 

“I think that maybe I should side along with you back to your place.”

 

“No, that’s not necessary.”  

 

But Harry insisted, grabbing her arm and offering a warm smile.  “I don’t want my best friend splinched.”

 

A moment later, he had safely delivered her to her flat and she thanked him as he brushed her cheek with a friendly kiss and returned back home.

 

Returning to the sofa, Ginny hadn’t moved, still curled in the same position, although now devoid of popcorn.  Harry took a second to turn off the telly and then knelt down, just watching her sleep and smiling at his beautiful girl.  She made his life so happy and he was so excited about his plans for them.

 

Her hundreds of tiny freckles seemed to dance across her cheeks as she wrinkled her nose and shifted, getting into a more comfortable position.  For a moment he contemplated just letting her sleep, but he thought that, one, she might be stiff in the morning and two, Mrs. Weasley was probably waiting up for her.

 

“Gin.”  He spoke softly, rubbing the back of his hand down her cheek.  “Wake up, love.”

 

She swatted at his hand as if scaring off a fly and made a soft noise, shifting again so that now her tank top was twisting around her, revealing red bra straps underneath and a soft speckled stomach.

 

He wanted to just keep her for himself, but again his better judgment urged him to try once more.  This time, he kissed her softly and then spoke directly in her ear.

 

“Ginny.  If you don’t wake up, I’m going to ravage your hot, sexy body.”

 

“Harry?”

 

Well that seemed to work for she finally at least spoke, although her eyes remained shut.

 

“I’m  ti…lemme slee..”

 

Harry chuckled to himself.  “Well, I think that was English.  Oh well, here goes nothing.”

 

He slipped his arms underneath her and stood up, holding her close to his chest as she tossed an arm over his shoulder and snuggled her head against him.  He concentrated on the parlor of the Burrow and a moment later found himself standing there, Ginny still in his arms and Mrs. Weasley looking up from her knitting.

 

She must have thought something was wrong, but Harry smiled, offering her assurances that this was just a sleepy daughter, not an injured or ill one.

 

He whispered, taking a few steps toward the stairs.   “She fell asleep at my place and doesn’t want to wake up.  I’ll just put her in bed.”

 

“Thank you, dear.  It’s rather late.  I was waiting up for her, but now that she’s home, I think I’ll head off.”

 

She followed Harry up the steps as he split off to Ginny’s bedroom.  Ginny mumbled something as he placed her on the mattress and removed her shoes and socks, pulling the blanket up over her.  A quick roll and she was tucked on her side, sound asleep.  Harry brushed back her hair and placed another kiss on her cheek.

 

“Goodnight, love.”

 

The door latched.

 


	5. Chapter 5 - The Perfect Little Black Dress

 

Thursday

 

Harry finally had a day off.  He’d also found out from Ginny early that morning that he was expected to give a speech at the foundation cocktail party that evening.  Not quite used to his fame, Harry was at least accepting his role in society and sharing in the responsibilities for this endeavor.  After years of turmoil and sadness, he found it cathartic to do works that brought great joy to so many others.

 

However, he still wasn’t all that comfortable with public speaking and he quickly Floo called Ginny asking for some help with his speech.  She popped over around nine in the morning.  Seated at the kitchen table, Harry was trying to scribble down some text when she walked in, looking absolutely delightful in a red, fuzzy sweater and tight jeans.  She wore a gold locket around her neck that seemed to entice his eyes to notice the goods resting just below.  Her swaying hips led his focus down to the high red shoes and wondered if they were the cause of her very sexy little wiggle.

 

“Did you get new shoes, too?”  He nodded at her feet before she paused at the side of the table, one hand on the tabletop, her hip swung out to the side.

 

“Yes, do you like them?”  She didn’t even wait for him to reply before wiggling her bum into his lap.  His arms instinctively encircled her waist and she placed a kiss on his lips and then pulled back, a cheerful expression on her face.

 

Harry caught a subtle taste of strawberry and guessed it was her lip-gloss.

 

“I like the red.”

 

She cocked her head, apparently curious about his appreciation of this color on her considering he saw it constantly in the color of her hair and that of her many family members.

 

“Well, then you picked the right family to befriend, didn’t you?”

 

Her smile faded and with it his did as well.  She ran a hand through his hair and slid it down his cheek.

 

“I’m sorry for last night.  I suppose I left a mess over here.  Mum told me I was kind of out of it when you carried me home.”

 

“That’s alright.  I sort of enjoy coming home and finding you here, even if you couldn’t stay.”  He squeezed her a bit closer trying to emphasize his point.

 

Now that the apologies were over, she bounded out of his lap and walked around to take a seat beside him.

 

“So, how’s the speech coming?”

 

“Good, I think.  I can think of plenty to say, it’s just that I get really nervous having to stand in front of all those people.”  He scrubbed the side of his head, dropping his hand back to the parchment.

 

“Harry, these are all people you know.  Well, most of them.  It’s just like talking to your friends and family.  You’ll do fine.”

 

“I’m not so sure.”

 

Ginny blew out a burst of air that sent a stray strand of hair off of her face.  “Okay, well, if you get nervous you should just imagine your audience in their underwear.”

 

“What?”  Harry, looking shocked, stared right back at her as if she had lost her mind.

 

“Haven’t you ever heard about that trick?”  She stood up and walked across the room.

“Stand up.”

 

Harry pushed the chair back, not sure what she was up to, but he walked over toward the living room, standing in front of the furniture.

 

“Now, go ahead and read your speech to me and just pretend I’m standing in my underwear.”  She pushed out another hip, drawing a flirtatious smile from his lips.

 

“Oh God Gin.  That’s the worst thing I could do.”

 

She frowned, pursing her lips as if she had just been insulted, but he knew there was a smile lurking just underneath as he continued.

 

“Do you have a big podium for me to stand behind?”

 

“No.  Why?”

 

“Because me imagining you in your underwear will most definitely draw everyone’s attention away from the speech and focus it on the enormous hard-on that you’ll be giving me.”  He fell back into the soft burgundy chair behind him.

 

“Why Harry James Potter.”  He recognized her approach, intentionally erotic at the mention of his arousal.  “Are you saying that you can’t control yourself around me?”

 

The next second, one of her jean-clad legs slid between the arm of the chair and his leg.  Then, the other so that she straddled his lap.

 

His mouth wasn’t dry, in fact, he almost thought he could drool at the moment watching her climb on top of him.  So, if that was the case, then why did it feel like he couldn’t manage to swallow?  This woman was filling his head with such intense feelings. She could bring him to a complete state of arousal with just a tip of her hip.  One smile and he completely forgot about any of his responsibilities, no job, no foundation, no need to do anything but kiss her and run his hands all over her smooth form.

 

Things were definitely expanding in his jeans as she pressed her crotch against him and then took the aggressive move to grab his head and press her mouth against his in a very forceful kiss.  Her tongue leapt out of her mouth as if it was too hot for even it to stand and instead spread its fire around his mouth.  That smell of strawberry filled his senses as she ground her pelvis against him again.  He was just about to push back for fear of exploding in his pants when she pressed all her weight against him and the entire chair started to tip.

 

Their eyes both grew wide as their bodies carried the chair back, flipping them over, Ginny catching herself on her hands.  Both of them erupted into laughter and Harry found himself in the enviable position of looking directly at Ginny’s chest as she tried to right herself.

 

They lie there, both laughing hysterically and untangling themselves from each other and the furniture.  Harry finally put the chair back in position and then offered a hand, pulling her back to her feet.  She had tears in her eyes from the laughter and her rosy cheeks and wide smile filled him with such joy.  Still holding her hand, he drew it up to his mouth and placed several kisses on her wrist and the inside of her arm.

 

She wiped an eye with her other hand and then just gazed upon him adoringly as he met her eyes again.

 

“Ginny Weasley, I am so in love with you.  Please tell me you’ll never leave me.”

 

Her response was immediate, very loving, very soft. 

 

“Never.”

 

It infused his heart with a strength that he knew would keep it pumping for as long as it took to give her every happiness imaginable.  She was his source of power and he knew that as long as he had her in his life, he would never fail in any endeavor.

 

The voice from the Floo interrupted the moment and Harry recognized Mrs. Weasley’s urgent tone.

 

“Ginny, are you there?”

 

She broke away quickly, heading for the hearth.

 

“Yes, Mum.”

 

“You’re needed over at P&L.  They were going to owl, but thought they could get you at home quicker.  Some emergency about an ad deadline.”

 

“Okay Mum.  Thanks.  I’ll leave in just a minute.”

 

The face withdrew and Harry knew their alone time for the morning was over.  Still, it had been wonderful once again and he smiled, giving her another brief kiss as she told him she’d meet him at his flat before the party tonight.

 

Harry sat back down and worked on his speech for another fifteen minutes, feeling pretty confident about the content before looking back at the hearth.  An idea came to him and he decided a quick trip to the Burrow was in store.

 

*** 

 

Ron got to his desk a bit early this morning with the plan of taking an extra long lunch.  He owled Hermione first thing, telling her that he planned on picking her up from her office around eleven.  Crime never seemed to stop, even when you had a hot lunch date planned and he found himself pulled into another investigation, checking out some dark wizarding vandalism on a nearby broom shop.  The morning flew by and about ten forty he discovered how time had slipped past.

 

No matter what, he wasn’t missing this lunch date.  He excused himself, saying he had an important appointment before running down the street toward a flower vendor he had noticed earlier.  About five of eleven Ron appeared in the ministry hallway carrying a bouquet of assorted flowers.  He attempted to put his hair and robes back in order before walking into Hermione’s office.

 

As expected, she was buried in paperwork behind her desk, but noticed his entrance a bright smile welcoming him.

 

“Hi.  So, time for lunch already?”

 

“Yeah.  Here.  These are for you.”  He handed over the flowers and she took them, inhaling a whiff of the romantic scent.

 

“Thank you, Ron.  They’re lovely.”  She spun around, appearing to search for a vase.  Upon finding it, she pointed her wand at it and it filled with water, the flowers sliding in a second later.  It found a home on the corner of her desk and she smiled, admiring the way it looked in her office.

 

“So.  Ready to go?” he asked.

 

“Almost.”  Surprisingly, at least to Ron, she unclasped her traditional black robes and draped them over her office chair. With Hermione’s extensive use of the dark, formal color, Ron just assumed she had on the same color below.  So, the fact that she was in a violet jumper with some delicate embroidery along the edges and gray trousers, forced several blinks out of Ron.

 

He offered his hand and she accepted.  They walked hand in hand to an Apparition point and he told her to hold tight and he side alonged them to a street that Hermione didn’t recognize.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Oh, it’s new.  I think you’ll really like it.”

 

He drew her along the walkway and toward a small yellow building.  Opening the door for her, she preceded him into the restaurant.  Their senses were immediately rushed with the aroma of various rich spices.  For being such a small building, it appeared very roomy inside, with mirrors on every wall.  Soon they were escorted to a small table and Ron pulled the chair out for Hermione before seating himself.

 

“This place specializes in food from different cultures.  You can get Indian, Russian, French, even Middle Eastern.  I like the pierogies.”

 

Hermione picked up a menu and started to examine the offerings.  “Yes, this looks wonderful.  How did you find this place?”  She smiled up at him.

 

“Oh, a friend from work told me about it and I just thought you’d like it.”

 

Soon they had both ordered and were enjoying a sumptuous lunch, both chatting about their day to day activities.  Ron couldn’t help but continually stare at the violet jumper for it was so different, so feminine and lovely on her, finally feeling inclined to say something.

 

“You look really nice today.”

 

“Thanks.  It’s just my office clothes, nothing special.”

 

Ron swallowed down a mouthful and absently answered.  “It’s not black.”

 

“What’s wrong with black?”

 

“Nothing.  It’s just that you wear it everyday.”

 

“So do you.  I don’t complain about you wearing it.”

 

“I wasn’t complaining.  Besides, mine is a uniform.”

 

“What difference does that make?  You still have to wear black everyday.”

 

“Yeah, well it’s a bit different on a bloke.  Black is a color of power and strength.  It’s a masculine color.”

 

“Really.  So, you don’t think I’m very powerful or strong, therefore I shouldn’t be wearing black, is that it?”

 

Just like a million times before, the simplest of conversations was escalating into a row.  However, _unlike_ the million times before, Ron actually caught on and saw the need to put a stop to it before their lunch was ruined, along with their relationship.  His first inclination was to pull his wand out and hush her up for a minute so he could explain.  It sounded good in theory, but he knew it would land him in a huge amount of hot water.  Besides, being in a part of town where it was likely that Muggles were present, well, that killed any idea of using his wand.

 

This would require verbal, mental and emotional skills only.  Ron knew that wasn’t his strongest department, but he was willing to try his best.  Reaching out a hand, he pressed it on her arm, lying on the table.  It was the simplest of gestures, but it got her attention.

 

Keeping eye contact with her, he concentrated his hardest to ensure that what was said would come out loud and clear, his voice calm and sure.

 

“Hermione.  Please.”  He emphasized it with a squeeze on her arm.  “I simply paid you a compliment.  I was not criticizing you.  I was voicing my opinion that you look absolutely smashing in that jumper and trousers and that I prefer it over the black robes.  It has nothing to do with your station or lot in life.  It has a lot to do with the fact that I think you look beautiful in purple.  Okay?”

 

Her composure softened almost immediately and Ron felt just the slightest twinge of relief, but waited for her to speak to find out if he had really been successful.

 

A quick glance down at the table preceded her soft reply.  “Alright.”  She almost looked embarrassed.  Ron wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a bit a flush sneak across her cheek.

 

Before anymore could be said, the waiter stopped at the table, offering them the dessert menu.  Hermione offered a polite “no, thank you” and all went quite again.  Ron hated the quiet.  He’d rather have her yelling at him or chiding him for his language than have complete silence.  Not only was it uncomfortable, but it made him feel that she had more to say, but was afraid to say it.  This led him to believe that she couldn’t trust him, so when she drew in a breath, he perked up, ready and willing to listen to anything she might have to communicate.

 

“So, if we’re being honest with each other, I’d like to tell you that I don’t care for you in the black robes either.”

 

He nodded, considering it before she continued, still looking away from him.  “But I’m not saying that as a criticism, you just look better in blue.”  She finally met his gaze.  “It matches your amazing eyes.”

 

Well, that caught his attention and those same azure eyes looked brightly back at her as the corners of his mouth inched up.  All kinds of responses swam through his brain.  _Thank you.  You like me eyes?  You know, I have to wear black at work._ None of those responses seemed worthy of the incredible surge of happiness that infused his system, all as a result of her simple compliment.  The struggle to come up with a reply that would return that feeling to her was the only consideration.  Ron was more a person of action rather than words.  So, when his lips couldn’t hold in his smile anymore, he leaned over the small table and kissed her.

 This wasn’t some passionate encounter, but a soft, heartfelt, just slightly lingering acknowledgement of the sentiment.  When he pulled back and resumed his seat, he noticed that her eyes were still closed and she looked very peaceful.  _My angel._   The memory of her asleep beside him in the hospital danced before his eyes. 

Once again, the moment was interrupted by the waiter bringing their check.  Ron realized that they weren’t an official couple, but was surprised when Hermione started to pull out some coins for her lunch.

 

“No, this is my treat.  I invited you.”  He quickly dropped some money on the table as she replaced hers with a smile of thanks.

 

The oddest thought passed over him, what would it be like for them to be married?   Would they share their finances or would she want to keep them separate.  He shook his head and considered what a silly thought that was.  He couldn’t even work up the courage to say ‘Hermione, will you be my girlfriend’ – he certainly wasn’t ready for ‘will you be my wife.’  No, that was a long way off.

 

Still, he was happy with how their lunch had gone and he escorted her back to the office with a promise to pick her up tonight at her flat.

 

*** 

 

When Harry arrived at the Burrow that morning, it was with specific intentions.  He headed to the center of family activity, sure to find Mrs. Weasley busy in the kitchen.  To his surprise, the kitchen was empty and a quick search of the house found no one in ear shot.  Harry considered the possibility that Mrs. Weasley had gone out to run some errands, but he decided to look in the garden before he left.

 

His initial survey indicated no one was present, but a soft sound drew his attention and he started down the path that led toward the lake.  The weather was cool but sunny that day, the last vestiges of Autumn about to disappear.  Coming around the bend in the path he found Mrs. Weasley, bundled in a jumper, sitting on a bench with a large book in her lap.

 

She must not have heard Harry’s approach for she never looked up.  He didn’t wish to startle her and settled for a clearing of the throat as a means to announce his presence.

 

The moment she glanced up, a warm smile met his eyes, her usual endearment as she held out a hand toward him.

 

“Harry, dear.  What a pleasant surprise.  How are you doing today?”

 

As he continued to approach, she patted the seat on the bench beside her.

 

“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley.”  He took the offered spot, curious about what appeared to be a photo album in her lap.  “What are you looking at?”

 

“Oh, it’s just the family pictures.  I guess I was just doing a little reminiscing.”  Her hand ghosted over the baby photos of her children, settling on one in particular.  “I bet you’ve never seen this.”  Harry focused on the picture in question.  He was sure it was Ginny, possibly around the age of four, wearing pigtails and a bright pink dress.  “Is that Ginny?”

 

“Yes.” Harry recognized the motherly smile and sense of affection that radiated off of her.  The thought of his own mother looking at photos of him as an infant and looking the same way brushed over his mind.  “Wasn’t she just precious?”  

 

Harry’s thoughts flashed back to the photo and he responded impulsively.

 

“She still is.”  He wasn’t embarrassed saying it.  In fact, he felt proud to state his thoughts and feelings on the girl that had stolen his heart.  Still, he was a bit surprised to see Mrs. Weasley slide her hand over and pat his knee.

 

“Harry, I think you are kind of sweet on my daughter.”

 

Now he felt embarrassed, but he answered her with an ingrained response.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

“You do realize that she is a year younger than you, only just eighteen.”

 

“Yeah?”  Harry wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but continued to listen, sure that there would be a point.

 

“I think she’s a bit conflicted at the moment over you. Now, it’s not my place to nose into your affairs, but she is my only daughter and you…well, you’re like a youngest son.  I want you both to be happy.”

 “Yes, ma’am.”  Harry was becoming more confused as she went.  _What was Ginny conflicted about?  Why wouldn’t they be happy?  Was there some innuendo that he was missing?_  

“I just hope that both of you will make decisions about your relationship based on a mutual sense of commitment and trust and not find yourself in an unfortunate position.”

 

Harry knew there was a moral in the story that Mrs. Weasley was trying to impart for everything she said made perfect sense and yet none at all.  Worrying that her next speech might take them into very uncomfortable territory, Harry decided to jump to the reason for his visit.

 

“Mrs. Weasley, um…I came over to ask you a question.”

 

“Alright, ask away.”

 

“Could you tell me what are some of Ginny’s favorite foods?”

 

She drew her jaw back and looked at him with knitted brows, obviously surprised and confused by his request, but he went on.

 

“Also, her favorite flowers.  Do you know what she likes the most?”

 

“Why are you asking me?  Why don’t you ask Ginny in person?”

 

“Well, I want to surprise her.”

 

The questioning stare vanished, her maternal grin returning.  “Well, that’s very sweet.  Are you going to make her dinner or something?”

 

“Actually, I was kind of hoping that you could make the dinner.”

 

If she had been confused before, this just added frosting to the cake.  “Harry, if you want to join us for dinner, all you have to do is ask.”

 

“Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley.  I…I just…”  There was a conflict going on between Harry’s desire to tell her about his plans and yet wanting Ginny to be the first to know.  When he came over here, his only wish was to get some help with his plans for Friday night.  It wasn’t his intention to announce those plans to her mother, but somehow it felt like both a gesture of respect and almost like he was telling his own mother and wanting her approval.

 

She had shifted on the bench, turning to face him more directly, the book now closed in her lap.  That same hand that previously patted his knee, now moved squeezing his arm as if trying to impart some assurance or perhaps, courage.  It must have worked, for Harry drew in a breath, puffed it out and smiled at her.

 

“I’m planning a surprise for Ginny on Friday night and I was wondering if you would help me.”

 

“What kind of surprise?”  So far it appeared she wasn’t catching on to his true intentions.  This was just prolonging the inevitable.  _Why can’t I just say this?  If I can’t say it to her Mum, how am I going to say it to her?  What if Mrs. Weasley frowns upon the idea or worse, tries to talk me out of this.  Oh, Lord._   _Then again, maybe the Weasleys are the type that want me to ask permission before proposing to their daughter._

 

He finally decided to ease into it and feel her out.

 

“Mrs. Weasley…” he swallowed something akin to the size of a brick down his throat.  “I’m more than just a little sweet on Ginny.  I’m in love with her.”

 

“I gathered that from my discussions with her.”  How she could keep speaking to him like this and still keep that pleasant, motherly expression was amazing.

 

“Oh…ah…good.  Good, yeah.”   His nerves must have given him away for the light of comprehension clicked on in her face, eyes wide, her smile growing and Harry sensed he didn’t need to say anything else.  What he should have done was draw in a large breath and hold it, for her arms had wrapped around him so quickly and so tightly that little or no air was making its way in and out of his lungs.  His arms returned the favor, holding her warmly.

 

“Oh, Harry.”  There was a hint of tears in her voice.  “I’m so happy for you!”

 

“Yeah, well, I haven’t asked her yet.”  If there was any question, he just answered it before pulling out of their embrace.

 

“Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry.  She loves you very much.  I was hoping that this might happen soon.”

 

“You were?”

 

If she was going to say anything else, she didn’t let on, instead hugging him again and quickly brushing away the bit of wetness that had glazed her eyes.  He went on to describe his plans for the evening and how he hoped she could help.  They spoke for about an hour before she insisted he stay and have lunch with her.

 

He told her a bit more about the Foundation he and Ginny had set up and invited her and  Mr. Weasley to attend the gathering that evening.  Returning to his flat after lunch, he did a bit more work on his speech and then checked his wardrobe to make sure he had the appropriate attire for the evening.

 

The party didn’t begin until eight o’clock and he was scheduled to meet Ginny at seven thirty, but Harry had an idea and couldn’t help but smile as he thought of it.  Ron would have to accompany him on this little excursion for he wasn’t going alone.  

 

First, he had to do a bit of investigative work and luckily for him, Ginny had left some things at his flat, some very lacy things.  He had set aside one drawer in his dresser for her to use and although he felt like some kind of evil voyeur, he gently pulled the drawer open and peeked inside.  The few t-shirts on the top appeared relatively innocent and he shifted things about before finding the object he desired.  It was kind of different handling it when it wasn’t on her person, but he pulled out the light blue cotton and lace item and quickly examined the tag.

 

“34B, whatever that means.”  It went back in the drawer, tucked neatly underneath the t-shirts again and Harry closed it and retreated as if a burglar in his own home.

 

Not long after, Harry arrived at Ron’s office and found he was out in the field.  Rhonda gave him the location with a wink and some very suggestive looks.  She was indeed beautiful, but Harry only had one girl on his mind and a mission to make her happy.

 

Apparating to the scene, he scanned the crowd of people, looking for that telltale red that would direct him to his friend.  Ron stood taller than most and so it was usually easy to pick him out of the crowd and soon he appeared around the corner, in discussion with another Auror whom Harry knew very well.

 

“Ron!”  He jogged over to the two as they continued speaking, apparently unphased by his presence.  Harry just listened until they finished the topic at hand and the other Auror left with orders from Ron to test some wand residue.

 

“Hey, mate.  What’s up?”  Ron asked, now that they were somewhat alone.

 

“Can you get away for a while?”  Harry was glancing around to see who else was present.

 

“Why?  Something wrong?”  Harry guessed it was a knee-jerk reaction after so many years of having to drop everything and go whenever Harry indicated a need.

 

“No, nothing’s wrong.  I just need your help with something, nothing earth-shattering.  If this,” he pointed around him “is really important, I can wait.  I just don’t want to do this alone.”

 

“What is it?”  Ron still looked concerned even with the smile growing on Harry’s face.

 

Harry finally leaned in, whispering to Ron.  “I need to do a little shopping before tonight and need your moral support, alright?”

 

That seemed to do the trick for Ron was now sporting a subtle grin and shifted from one leg to the other, examining him with curious eyes.

 

About twenty minutes later, Ron wrapped things up and returned to where Harry had been sitting on the curb of the street, patiently waiting.

 

“Alright, we can go.”  Ron tucked his wand back into his pocket.  “So, where to?”

 

Harry grinned.  “Feeling brave?”

 

Now he got a mixed grin and look of confusion from his best friend, but he just told him the destination and they both Apparated, arriving not far from St. James Park.

 

Harry led the way and a brisk walk later, they arrived at their destination.  Ron’s legs came to a complete halt when he saw the name of the store.  Harry went to pull the door open, but had to pause and retrieve the petrified form of his friend.

 

“You can’t be serious.”  Ron spoke, but he still wasn’t moving.

 

“Yes, I am.  Look, I’m not going in here alone and if I tell Ginny that she didn’t get something because you refused to come in, you’ll never hear the end of it.”  At this point, Harry didn’t feel bad at all about the use of threats if it accomplished his goal.

 

“Bloody Hell, Harry.”  Ron almost growled, but took a deep breath and blinked twice before his legs carried him into the store.

 

The shock of rows upon rows of unmentionables put a flushed color on both of the men’s faces.  Soon a very young, very beautiful woman was approaching them with a bright smile.

 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.  Can I help you find something?”  Her blouse was unbuttoned well below normal, probably intentionally trying to advertise the garment that was pushing her bosom up for Harry to easily see.

 

“Oh, um…yeah.  I’m looking for some lingerie…um…34B in red.”

 

“So you know the size.  That’s very helpful.”  She turned and started walking toward the back of the shop and Harry followed unaware of whether his partner was behind him.  “Most men come in here without a clue.”

 

“Um…yeah.  Well, I just thought…” he swallowed looking at a very sheer corset-type garment that was displayed on a mannequin and envisioning Ginny in it.

 

“Do you like that?” the clerk asked.  “Or, would your lady prefer something more traditional?”

 

She launched into an explanation of styles, holding up various sets of knickers and bras.  Harry felt like he was being given a crash course in lingerie, learning words like under wire and French cut all the while trying valiantly to suppress the heat moving up his face.

 

He glanced back and saw that Ron had finally walked into the place and was at least looking a bit, albeit nervously.  Harry continued on his own, first finding a light pink item the lady called a ‘babydoll.’  He examined it, trying to picture Ginny wearing it for his speech and although this brought delicious ideas to his mind, he finally determined it wasn’t all that practical.

 

“Bloody Hell!” echoed from the other end of the store and Harry spun around to find Ron apologizing profusely and looking the color of his hair.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean you, Miss.  It’s just that…”

 

The nice young lady seemed to be very understanding.  “You’ve never bought anything before have you?”

 

“Well, obviously no.”

 

Harry’s grin grew and he decided to just watch this little exchange for a moment.

 

“Well, let me help you then.  First, what color does she like?”

 

Ron seemed to look relieved and answered very quickly.  “Anything but black.”

 

“Alright.  Now, do you want sleepwear, everyday wear or something for a special occasion?”

 

One nervous hand slid into his pocket while the other ran through his hair.  “Um…I guess something special would be good.”

 

“Great.  Now, we need to determine her size.  Do you know what size bra she wears?”

 

“Hell no!  Sorry, I mean…no, I don’t know that.”  Ron looked around frantically trying to find a way out of this when he spied Harry watching in delight from around the corner.  “Harry?”

 

“Don’t look at me, mate.  I haven’t been staring at Hermione’s chest.”  Harry shrugged, his arms now folded across his own.

 

“Well I haven’t either!”  That seemed to be even more embarrassing for Ron was looking ready to jump out of his skin.  Harry gave him that ‘oh, yes you have’ look and Ron mumbled a response.  “A little maybe, but I haven’t seen them…you know.”

 

Then the clerk did the unthinkable.  She walked just a bit closer.

 

“Is she about my size?”  With her chest pushed forth, smiling and waiting for his response, Harry knew Ron was dealing with a lot at the moment.

 

Ron pulled his hand from his pocket and reached out as if about to pick up a couple of melons at the market before he caught himself.  “She’s about like this…oh, sorry….I didn’t mean to…”

 

“It’s quite alright, sir.”  She must have taken pity on him for a second later she had him sitting in a nearby chair and the first clerk had returned to check on Harry.

 

“Sir, have you decided on anything?”

 

“Actually.  I was kind of wondering about this.”  Harry pointed to a red lace chemise that had garter-belts attached at the bottom and tiny lace sleeves that rode just off the edge of the shoulders.

 

“A very nice choice.  Does your lady like to wear garters?”

 

Harry felt like he was drifting and answered truthfully, albeit not quite correct for the situation.  “I don’t know, but I think they’re pretty damn sexy.”

 

Just when he was starting to get very excited at the idea of Ginny wearing this item, the sales lady spun around, a tiny strip of red lace fabric in her hands.  Harry wasn’t sure, but thought it was supposed to be knickers. 

 

“Would you like these to go along with it?”

 

“Um…there’s no back on those.”

 

“It’s called a thong.  Some women prefer it because it eliminates the panty lines.”

 

“Oh, sure, that makes perfect sense.  Did someone turn the heat up in here?”  Harry loosened his shirt collar, trying to allow some air to cool his raging hormones.

 

“Would you like me to wrap this up for you?”

 

Harry was starting to hate her smile and cheerful attitude when his heart was leaping from his chest and his pants getting tight from the image of Ginny wearing those tiny things.  “Sure.”

 

He sensed that the end was near and decided to go and collect Ron for a quick departure.  The image he saw next forced him to stop and shake his head, to ensure he was really looking at the same Ron he had known for years.

 

The clerk was holding various multi-colored bras up in front of her chest and Ron was admiring each one with a nod and a smile.  “Brilliant” was the only word he heard.  A stack of purple, pink and blue lace was building on the table next to them.  As Harry approached, he watched the girl bend down and whisper something in Ron’s ear with a soft giggle.

 

Ron almost immediately started coughing and the clerk started to pat him on the back.

 

“What’s the matter, mate?”  Harry finally asked, watching Ron attempt to catch his breath.

 

“Oh, nothing.”  He cleared his throat again.  “Yeah, okay.  I’ll take that, too.”

 

“Blimey, Ron.  How much are you getting?”

 

“Just a nightgown for Mum and the like.”

 

Harry reached over, grabbing the item that had fallen off the stack.  It was like that item the clerk had called a babydoll and he held up it up.  “This is for your Mum?”

 

Ron nearly ripped the garment from Harry’s grasp and stepped in front of him, essentially blocking his view from the rest of the items.  “Shut it, Harry.  You know darn well who it’s for.  It’s your fault I came here in the first place and now I’m spending half my ruddy wages on a bunch of things that I only hope I’ll ever get to see.”

 

Harry took the box from the lady at the counter and pulled out his money.

 

“And, don’t show me whatever it was that you bought for my sister.  I don’t want to think of her wearing stuff like this!”  He was waving a bright pink sheer something out toward Harry just as another patron, an older woman, walked past them, almost getting a face full of fabric.  The lady looked a bit annoyed and Ron stuffed the item into his pocket as if hiding the evidence.

 

Harry leaned in close.  “Ron, it wouldn’t look good for an Auror to walk out of a lingerie shop with knickers in his pocket.”

 

“Bloody hell.”  With a swift move, the pink lace appeared once again, this time on the counter to be rung up with the rest.

 

A few minutes later they had exited the store, Harry with his single box, Ron with two full bags.  Ron started walking with a speed that required Harry to almost jog to keep up.  As soon as they were back in their secluded corner of the park, Ron pulled out his wand and shrunk the bags down so that he could put them in his pocket.  Harry did the same with the box.

 

Although the experience had been a bit nerve-wracking, Harry was feeling very giddy over the prospect of presenting Ginny with his gift this evening.  For Ron’s part, well he wasn’t sure, for his friend had barely spoken two words to him since they had left.

 

Harry sensed something was bothering Ron when his friend took a seat on a nearby bench in the park.  The body language said it all and Harry joined him, wondering how such a fun experience could be this disturbing.

 

“Harry, why did you pull me along on this?  I don’t even know why I just bought this stuff.  It’s not like I’m going to see her in it anytime soon.”

 

“Why not?”  Harry asked for it seemed like the simplest of answers.  “You act like Hermione doesn’t have a girly bone in her body.  She’ll probably love the gesture, even if she doesn’t wear it for you, she’ll still think it’s romantic.”

 

“I don’t know, Harry.  This just doesn’t seem like it’s her.  I mean, I’d love for her to wear it, but I don’t think she will.”

 

“You might be surprised.”  Harry slapped him on the knee, motioning for them to get going and soon they had returned, each to his own flat.

 

*** 

 

Ron wasn’t the only one being pulled away from the office that day.  Ginny made a beeline for Hermione’s desk as soon as she had finished with her morning ad crisis.  As usual, her studious friend was donning her black robes, deep in concentration, quill in hand, ink stained fingers.  It was almost comforting knowing that she was this constant in Ginny’s life, but she realized that this was going to have to change for Hermione to be truly happy.

 

“Knock, knock.”  Ginny called out as she approached the desk.

 

“Hey, Ginny.”

 

“Hi.  Can you get away a bit early today?”

 

“Why?”  Hermione returned her quill to its holder.

 

“We have some dress shopping to do.”

 

“Dress shopping?”

 

“For tonight and for Saturday.”

 

“Oh, I don’t need a dress for tonight.  I have these perfectly nice trousers and…”  Ginny grabbed her robes and started to pull her from her wooden desk chair.

 

“Oh no you don’t!  No trousers tonight. This is a cocktail party and you need the perfect little black dress.  Now come on.”

 

Hermione started to complain that she couldn’t leave her office early just as Martina came in from the other room.  Now Ginny knew that Martina was technically Hermione’s supervisor, although they worked together more as equals.  She also knew that Martina would agree with her on Hermione’s need for a makeover so, she had no problems speaking up.

 

“Martina, do you mind if I steal Hermione for just a bit today?  We have to attend Harry’s Foundation Dinner tonight and Hermione doesn’t own a cocktail dress.”

 

“You’re kidding.”  Martina replied and then turned to her colleague.  “You don’t own a perfect little black dress?”

 

“See?” Ginny nudged Hermione on the arm with a smile.

 

“Um…well…no.”  Having two girls gang up on her must have made an impression for Hermione was now looking somewhat ashamed.

 

“Take her, Ginny and don’t let her show up wearing trousers!”

 

“Amen!”  Ginny cried out in complete agreement with that statement, smiling to Martina and pulling Hermione along.

 

Ten minutes later they had Apparated from the Ministry grounds and appeared in Diagon Alley, just outside of P&L Designs.  As soon as Hermione saw the sign on the shop, she paused, looking back to her friend.

 

“They have some smashing stuff.  Now come on.”

 

Hermione hadn’t seen her two former roommates all that much since leaving Hogwarts.  They met occasionally in public and she knew they had opened up their own dress shop and that Ginny did some marketing work for them, but it was altogether different to be one of the clientele.

 

“Hermione!”  Lavender let out a shriek and flew out to greet her former classmate.  A second later, Parvati must have heard the noise and appeared from a backroom, her still stunning dark hair in an unusual twist, a bright smile on her face.

 

“Well, it’s about time you got her into our store, Ginny.”

 

Ginny wanted to deck her out and wouldn’t be satisfied until they had found her the perfect dress for tonight and something for the club on Saturday.

 

“Alright ladies.  She is all yours.  We need cocktail dress for tonight and accessories.”

 

“Shoes?” Lavender asked, but Ginny somehow pulled out the pair of black sandals that Hermione had purchased the day before and dangled them in front of her.

 

“We took care of that yesterday.” She smiled.

 

“Excellent!” Lavender replied and moved to remove Hermione’s robes.  Once her robes were free of her, Lavender spun her around, checking her out from head to toe and then called back to Parvati.

 

“Par, we need ‘Exquisite Torture’, size 5.”  She turned her around and reached inside her jumper, looking at the tag along her neck, then continued to call out.  “34A and black stockings.”

 

“Got it!”  Parvati disappeared behind the back and Lavender steered Hermione toward a dressing area behind a blue curtain. 

 

“Take it all off” she said, pushing her into the dressing room.

 

“What?”  Hermione seemed shocked and looked to Ginny for help, but her friend only winked and waved the back of her fingers at her, directing her to go on and do as she was told.  A moment later, Ginny watched Lavender push her hand through the curtain and instruct Hermione to hand her the black trousers and grey jumper she had been wearing.  

 

She then held them up for Ginny to see and frowned.

 

“I told you she needs help.”  Ginny shrugged as Lavender placed the items in a bag and handed them to Ginny.

 

Parvati was out in a flash and walked right in on Hermione who let out a shriek.  Ginny heard some muffled conversation and a few minutes later Parvati stepped back out of the curtained area.

 

Meanwhile, Lavender was pulling other various items from the racks and bringing them over, brightly colored blouses and jumpers, skirts in various lengths, some business like, some fun.  She hung them up beside the dressing area just as the curtain parted and a very timid Hermione stepped out.

 

Ginny’s mouth fell open.  “Wow.  Hermione, you look smashing!”

 

Hermione glanced down at herself, appearing to wonder if she was in her same body.  “Well, at least it’s black.”  She ran her hands over the dress that clung to her form, lacy cap sleeves and a hem that just dusted her thighs.

 

“I’m not too sure about _this_.”  Hermione adjusted the bra that had now transformed her into a much more voluptuous woman.

 

“Look at those boobs!”  Ginny complimented as she walked around her, the black stockings and high heeled shoes completing the outfit.

 

“Ginny!  I don’t want to look like some…some…I mean, look at these!”  She turned to point out her much more pronounced profile.

 

“Hermione, you look absolutely fantastic.  Ron will go nuts!  You’ll have to pick the men off the floor when they see you in this!”

 

Hermione was still examining herself and had now finally stepped in front of the mirror, looking at the back and the slit that traveled up displaying a bit more thigh that she was accustomed to.

 

Parvati reached around and lifted Hermione’s hair, twisting it and holding it in place to give the proper effect.  “A little updo and you’ll be all set.”

 

Lavender then showed up with a pair of dangly earrings that sparkled brightly and held them next to her ears.  The smile that graced Hermione’s face sent a chill through Ginny for she realized that her friend was finally beginning to see the true beauty that lie beneath her studious disguise.

 

“We’ll take it.”  Ginny spoke up, glancing over to meet Hermione’s eyes.  “What’s next?”

 

Parvati quickly pulled down the zipper, another surprise for Hermione who quickly grabbed the front of the dress to keep it from slipping. 

 

“Back in you go.”  Parvati directed her to the changing room.

 

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Lavender gave Hermione a whole new set of things to try, working her hardest to convince her that black robes were just not the way to go at the office.  She pulled out some beautiful new shimmery gray robes and some blue ones that still looked conservative, but had that flare for fun.

 

Soon Hermione was getting in the mood and began commenting on how much she liked several of the blouses and skirt combinations.  Ginny left them and started to go through the racks at the back of the store that housed the more flamboyant party dresses.

 

When she returned, Hermione was laughing, now apparently enjoying this experience immensely.  However, when Ginny held up the next selection, the bottom fell out.  Hermione started to shake her head.

 

“No way.  I am not wearing that!”

 

“It’s for the club, not the office.”

 

“I’m not wearing that to the club, either.”

 

“Oh, come on.  Try it on.  You can’t go to the dance club in your work clothes and you can’t dance in that tight black dress.”

 

“Ginny’s right.” Lavender added and pulled Hermione back into the changing room.

 

Ginny waited patiently hearing two ‘ums’, three ‘no ways’ and one ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ before Hermione finally stepped out of the room.  This dress was about as far from black as you could possibly get.  It was hot pink, plunging strapless neckline with a strip of rhinestones down the front and several ruffled flounces around the skirt that showed plenty of leg.

 

“There’s nothing to hold this up!”  Hermione complained, but Parvati showed up with another bra dangling in her hand, this one hot pink to match and strapless.

 

“We can fix that.”  

 

*** 

 

Ginny and Harry met that afternoon, post shopping, to go over the plans for the party.  Ginny had arranged for food and hired a band.  Harry had come up with some other forms of entertainment for the crowd and put up some signage urging people to give for the cause.  

 

As Harry adjusted the chairs in the large ballroom, his eyes kept floating over to her.  The energy from her smile and actions seemed to infuse the room with cheerfulness.  Harry paused to consider that it might be just himself that was feeling so cheerful, but he honestly wondered how anyone could be near Ginevra Weasley without sensing it as well.

 

His covert gaze kept tabs on the three male band members who all stood near her.  Their body language spoke volumes about their thoughts on the beautiful redhead standing before them.  The change in Harry and Ginny’s intimacy level over the past several days, left him feeling strangely possessive when it came to Ginny.  It went beyond protectiveness and outside the realm of jealousy for he knew that she belonged to him.  He was willing to share her smile and wonderful personality, but the minute he even perceived an errant eye checking her over, he would be there to intercede.

 

Harry knew his magical strength, although he hadn’t demonstrated any real power since that fateful day eighteen months earlier.  He instead, elected to keep his magical talents hidden except to those close to him.  Growing up a Muggle, even an unhappy one, Harry tended to do things without the help of magic most of the time, yet he recognized when magic was valuable and necessary.

 

Adjusting the last chair in the row, he heard her call out to him.

 

“Harry?  Do you have any special requests for them to play?”

 

“Um…no, not really.  Just a nice varied selection, I suppose.”

 

Just then, the caterer walked in and pulled Harry’s attention to the food selections for the evening.  The chef had brought out some samples and they spoke for a few minutes before Harry turned back looking for Ginny.  The band members were still on the stage, setting up their instruments when Harry approached them.

 

“Hey, did you see where Ginny went?”  

 

One of the musicians responded.  “I think she went around to talk to the guys in the back about the lighting.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Harry walked around the platform and parted the heavy drapes that separated it from the backstage area.  It was rather dark so Harry pulled out his wand and called out ‘lumos’ as he followed the hallway back.  A mumble of voices became apparent as he approached a doorway, but weren’t clear until he stepped into the room.

 

“You had better step back or you will find yourself in a world of hurt.”  It was Ginny’s voice and it put him on immediate alert as his feet picked up the pace.

 

“A pretty little bird like yourself?  We could have a lot of fun, together, eh?”

 

With a large stack of crates blocking his way, Harry knew he was just feet away when he heard the male voice cry out.

 

“Oww!  Why you little she-devil!”

 

Harry’s urgency to get to her compelled him to raise his wand and part the crates for an immediate opening and he saw Ginny looking angry and rather smug as the man in front of her hopped around on one foot, holding the other one in what appeared to be substantial pain.

 

Ginny bent down to pick up her bag and the man lunged forward, knocking them both to the ground.

 

“Back off!”  Harry reflectively swung out his arm, the spell pulling the man off her and sending him sliding at great speed across the floor, finally landing against some of those same crates.  Harry placed himself between them, his stance a true indicator of his readiness to defend Ginny.

 

He never sensed Ginny move at all, but knew that she was behind him, probably a bit shocked.  If raising a wand from this prone position were a sign of stupidity, then this man got the moron prize.  Not only was this stagehand much older and much heavier than his opponent, he must also have been blind.  Anyone drawing a wand on the famous Harry Potter was looking for a death wish or at the very least a long stay in St. Mungo’s.

 

Harry offered one warning.  Only one.  “I wouldn’t do that.”

 

Too late, the labored arm movement was a clear indicator to Harry and without even muttering a word, Harry had disarmed the man and bound his arms tightly to his body.  Why the man hadn’t noticed earlier, was a surprise, but Harry saw the light of recognition click on.

 

“Harry Potter.  Mr. Potter!  Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Potter.  I didn’t know it was you, really!”

 

Hearing movement, Harry turned and offered a hand to Ginny, his concern evident.

 

“Are you okay, love?  Did he hurt you?”  Ginny was dusting off her clothes and looking furious, not at all like someone in distress.  Harry recognized that she wasn’t in need of comforting as she blew a strand of hair out of her face, drew her wand and then noticed the tear in her skirt.

 

“Damn!”  She stomped her foot down.

 

He actually felt sorry for the bloke on the floor.  Not only did he just face the greatest wizard in history, he was also about to experience the wrath of Ginevra Weasley and Harry was pretty sure of what was coming.

 

She marched over to the man.  “You…you idiot!  You wrecked my new skirt!”

 

The burst of light flew from her wand.  Harry actually winced seeing the large amounts of snot that poured out of the man’s nose, following by the ever growing black bat.  With his hands bound to his sides, all he could do was sit and suffer.  Harry raised his wand, about to release the binding when Ginny turned to him, her wand pointed straight at his nose.

 

“Don’t you dare release him, Harry James Potter!”  The wand dropped to his side like a piece of lead.  She marched back with a rather lopsided stride and Harry noticed the broken heel on her shoe.  A swift snatch retrieved her bag from the floor.

 

“Aaargh!”  she screamed, looking at her broken shoe now in hand.

 

Harry turned back to the now suffering man on the floor.  “You know, you should really know better than to mess with my Ginny.”

 

Now screaming, the man replied.  “I’m sorry Mrs. Potter!” as he continued to shake his head, trying to fend off the creatures that were now flying about him.  Harry’s eyebrows raised at his mention of her title.

 

“As well you should be!”  Ginny replied and disappeared behind the crates to exit the room.

 

Harry raised his wand, again wishing to release the bind on the suffering man.

 

“Harry!  Don’t even think it!”

 

How she knew him so well was astounding, but he didn’t want to temp fate and instead shrugged to the man as if this wasn’t his decision and left the room.

 

When he reached the ballroom a moment later he found her attempting to repair her shoe as the band members stood in silence, Harry realizing they had undoubtedly heard this entire confrontation.

 

Harry walked up to her, prepared to offer his help when she spun around to face the band.

 

“Gentlemen, are there any questions before I leave?”

 

The combined response of  ‘No, Mrs. Potter’ and ‘No, Ma’am’ all blurted forth from the now submissive looking musicians.

 

Heel now repaired, she stormed out.  Harry smiled and waved goodbye to the band before chasing her out of the room.

 

*** 

 

Ron had agreed to pick Hermione up at her flat so, he dashed back to his own flat, got a quick shower, dressed and soon found himself standing over the stack of boxes, trying to decide if he should present her with one of them.  He threw his robes over the back of the sofa and finally decided to wait and give her one of these later when he felt their relationship was a bit closer.  The intimacy of this purchase seemed to blur the line between them and Ron wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

 

He was ready early and decided to read the post for a few minutes when a soft pop announced the arrival of someone.  Wand drawn, he quickly approached the entrance, his back to the wall, ready to act on any possible intruder.

 

“Ron?”  

  _What is she doing here?_  

“Hermione!  Did I screw up?  Wasn’t I supposed to meet you at your place?”

 

She was standing in his living room in her usual black robes, carrying a bag.  

 

“Yes, you were.  I’ve just had a bit of a problem.  Something’s wrong with the water in my flat and I was wondering if I could use your shower?”

 

“M-my shower?”

 

“Yes.  Would that be alright?”

 

“Um...sure, yeah.  Give me a minute, okay?”

 

Ron dashed off to check the bathroom and make sure he hadn’t left his dirty clothes on the floor.  He heard her call out to him from the other room.

 

“Ron!”

 

“Yeah?” he responded, hanging up his towels.

 

“Where exactly is this party?” her voice shouted from down the hall.

 

“Um…the invitation is in my robe pocket.”

 

A moment later and he was satisfied with the appearance of the bathroom and had pulled out a couple of clean towels for her to use checking his adjoining bedroom as he left.  Reappearing in the living room, he wasn’t prepared for the image before him as he spoke.

 

“I left out some clean tow…”

 

Hermione stood next to his robe on the sofa, a piece of pink parchment in her shaking hand.  It wasn’t the invitation, Ron knew that.  It was also pretty clear that Hermione was surprised at being caught reading the document.

 

Ron voiced internally what couldn’t be said when he remembered sliding that pink letter into his pocket two days earlier.  _Shite!_

 

He expected anger or even some twinge of hurt, but instead she appeared rather indifferent folding the parchment back up.

 

“Oh, sorry.  It was in your pocket with the invitation.  I didn’t mean to snoop.”

 

She walked up to him quickly, pushing the invitation into his chest.

 

“Here.  I’ll be out of the shower soon and…”

 

Between grabbing the card and trying to comprehend what he had just seen, she nearly escaped down the hall, but in a burst of nerves he grabbed her arm.

 

“Hermione, wait.”

 

“Ron, if I don’t hurry we’ll be late.”

 

“I don’t care.”  His other hand took hold of her, both of her shoulders now firmly in his grip.  “That letter isn’t what you think.”

 

“Looks to me like you have a dinner date for Saturday night.”

 Her casual appearance wasn’t fooling him.  He knew her too well, knew that underneath she was either angry or much worse, disappointed. 

“She invited me, yes, but I’m not going.”

 

“You turned down a dinner date with that beautiful girl?”

 

Ron just knew, looking into those bright, brown eyes that she was putting up the bravest face she could muster and he wanted desperately to put her mind at ease.  It struck him that he hadn’t owled the girl back yet which put him in an even more precarious spot.

 

“Well, not yet.  I haven’t had a chance to owl her, but I will.”  He finally released his grip on her arms and as soon as he did, she started to move down the hall again approaching his bedroom door.

 

“Please, don’t cancel your date on my account.  I mean, you can date whomever you want.  It’s not like we’re mutually exclusive.  We’re just friends, right?”  Ron was trying to stop her again, grabbing the wrist of her trailing arm as she cleared his bedroom door.  

 

This time when he pulled her back, that mask of indifference was giving way and her eyes showed just enough of the hurt that was floating beneath.

 

“Hermione, please.”  This time he made sure she wasn’t going to get away and trapped her firmly against his bedroom wall.  His heart was beating with a combination of regret and an unflinching desire to get his relationship with her on the right ground.  They had gone on long enough like this, neither one willing to say what needed to be said.  Observing this same confusion and pain reflected in her eyes drove a nail through his heart.

 

“I’m not going out with that girl.  Do you hear me?”  He licked his lips, trying to put some moisture in his increasingly dry mouth.  “I have no desires to be with anyone…besides you.”

 

She didn’t answer, but then again Ron wondered how she could respond to that in the first place.  It wasn’t a question.  He just had to get it off his chest, had to tell her how much he wanted them to be exclusive.  Those warm eyes kept boring into his, probably looking for evidence that he was telling the truth.  They seemed to draw it out of him before he could even think.

 

“Hermione, I’m crazy about you, don’t you know that?  I know I should have said something sooner, something to let you know how I felt, but well, I just thought that you already understood.  It was like some kind of unspoken agreement between us, but now I think I made a mistake in that assumption.”

 

“What are you saying, exactly?”  She finally spoke to him and it was like having someone unlock your heart and open it up to read all those secrets you had kept since you were eleven years old, but swore no one would ever know about.  His eyes almost hurt looking back at her and he allowed two very shallow breaths to fill him, his heart beating in time with each of them.  How could he possibly express the ache that had driven him on for years now?  How he longed to be with her, yet felt terrified of jumping into what he ultimately viewed as his life long goal.

 

_Dammit, Ron!  Tell her now or lose her forever._

 

The emotions welled within him, pushing him forward and he took her lips with a forceful kiss.  Pushing her up against the wall, he deepened the kiss, wishing it would last forever and he could just forget about ever having to explain himself.

 

His restraint was so weakened by the desires of his heart that he reached up and unclasped her robes, pulling them off her shoulders even as his mouth continued to plunder hers, pulling in quick breaths through his nose so not to break contact.  Ron was stripping the heavy, black wool from her form like a man bewitched.  That was exactly what he felt she had done to him.  Ron whipped the robes to the floor, his lips barely leaving hers.

 

She was breathing fast, making small noises that only seemed to encourage him.  In fact, she never said anything to _discourage_ him, however, Ron had swallowed her words with his kisses, leaving her unable to speak even if she wanted to.

 

Without hesitation or permission, he slid his hand under the front of that violet jumper he loved so much and felt the warm smoothness of her stomach.  His other hand reached behind her and pulled her toward him as he steered them away from the wall and toward his bed even as he pressed his tongue into her open mouth, tasting more of her.

 

He felt out of control with want, pushing her down to the mattress with a frenzied lust that shook him to the core.  Her arms had slid up into his hair and were sending the most incredible sensations down his spine, driving him forward with unsatisfied need.  He withdrew his lips only long enough to pull in a stuttered breath and then dove right back in, this time taking her neck for his own.  His lips, tongue and teeth made quick work exploring her neck, nipping at her ear and finally whispering what had been burning with him for so long.

 

“I love you, Hermione.  I love you and I want you so bad.  God, I want you.”

 

Stretching out on the bed, he rested one leg between hers and slid that hand over her ribcage inching upward.  The thought of cupping her lacy covered breast sent him spiraling out of control.  Within only seconds he had pushed his hand over her bra, giving into temptation.   While holding her other wrist down on the bed, he pressed his now hardened member against her hip as the pressure within him built to an unstoppable force.

 

All thoughts of what was proper and polite, appropriate and considerate had left his head for a fleeting moment and Ron allowed his pulsing want to dictate his actions.  She was going to be his.  He had waited so long, wanted her for so long and he was tired of it.  Proper courting be damned!

 

“Ron.”  Her body was consuming him and he barely registered her plea as he shifted his hips, attempting to rest between her legs.

 

“Ron…” this time he kissed her, forcing her words to disappear down her throat.

 

Somehow he never noticed her trembling beneath his grip.  His hands were just about to reach under her bra when her voice broke through his thoughts.  This time it was wasn’t soft and urging, it was forceful and pleading.  

 

“Ron!  Stop!”

 

It was like coming out of some potion-induced haze.  He opened his eyes and looked at her for the first time in several minutes, finally realizing the placement of his hand and feeling the intense grip of her hand clutching his arm.  His restraining force on her wrist was a bit too strong and her face showed a twinge of something he registered as quite possibly panic as her arm shook.

 

He could only stare at her, listening to the heavy sounds of his breath before realizing his overzealousness.  Releasing her wrist, he gently withdrew his hand from her breast and reached up to examine her face as he hovered over her.

 

The happiness that he had been experiencing was suddenly overshadowed by the undeniable sensation that he had pressed his advantage a bit too far.

 

“I’m sorry.  I guess I went a little too fast, eh?”

 

Hermione nodded, a speedy acknowledgement of his sins.  

 

With another difficult swallow he continued.  “I’m…I’m sorry.”  He dropped his head momentarily.  “I-I just wanted you so badly.”

 

He stroked her hair back, somewhat urgently, wishing to calm her and himself in the process.  The twisting sensation in his stomach was a good indicator of the guilt that was now freely flowing through him.  Just when he thought they were back on the straight and narrow, he had to go and let his male urges kill what he had spent so long trying to build up.

 

He kept stroking her hair and face, hoping that by doing so he would stave off the inevitable end to one of the most wonderful moments of his life.  Seeing her now, her beautiful brown curls spread out on his pillow, the image of his angel again appeared before him.  So many things had not been said and Ron saw his time with her fleeting and wanted her to know so many things before she pushed him away.

 

“I will never get tired of looking at you.”  His thumbs were running little circles over her cheeks and lips.  He likened it to the techniques of a blind man trying to remember every curve, every wisp of hair, all the softness that made up the most beautiful face in the world.  “You are so beautiful.”

 

She still hadn’t said anything, but at least the fear he had registered before seemed to have left her eyes.  Instead, they were full of warmth and love.  Her hands, now free of his grip and manipulation, traveled up his arms and cupped his cheeks.  It was such a simple gesture, but the implications were huge for she hadn’t pushed him away.  She hadn’t lashed out at him, she was returning his affection.  If ever a man’s fortunes had turned to the good, he was that man and elation caused him to choke briefly before allowing himself to smile back at her.

 

“Hermione, w-will you be my girlfriend?  I want us to be together, officially.  Just you and I, no one else, do you understand?”

 

His body felt numb, probably because of the loss of blood being pumped into his limbs for he was sure his heart stopped beating while it waited for her reply.

 

“I will under two conditions.”  Her brow had furrowed and Ron thought he had better pay close attention.

 

“Alright.”

 

“One.  You will stop when I tell you to stop.”

 

“Absolutely.”  He nodded.  “I promise.  I will.”

 

“And, two, you’ll always kiss me like that, because that was totally unbelievable.”

 

The smile on her erupted like the rays of the sun over the mountains in the morning.  He felt awash with warmth and his eyes involuntarily filled with moisture as his smile broke to match hers.

 

“Even though I love laying here with you, we do have a party to attend.  So, can I please take my shower now?”  Her face now held an amusing grin.

 

“Screw the party.  I just want to stay here and kiss you.”  He leaned in, this time, however, it was a soft and simple kiss that he offered.

 

“Ron, stop.”  She said it not forcefully, but Ron recognized it was to test that first condition she had just laid out moments earlier and he wasn’t about to break his word.

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”  He was up and off of her in an instant, offering his hand to pull her off the bed.  He stepped back, giving her room to walk in front of him and she picked up her sack from the floor where she had dropped it and proceeded toward the bathroom.  Of course, he noticed with great joy that the smile never left her face.

 

“Clean towels are on the counter.”  He gestured and then left the room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering down the hall with a stupid grin on his face.


	6. Chapter 6 - Better Not Mess With My Man

 

Thursday

 

Harry appeared at the Burrow at six o’clock, a white box with a red ribbon tucked under his arm.  Mr. Weasley must have heard the noise for he appeared to investigate.

 

“Harry!  Welcome, son.”

 

“Good to see you, Mr. Weasley.”

 

“Yes, I know I haven’t been around here much lately, but I’m sure you’ve been by plenty of times.  Molly tells me you came for a visit this morning.”  It was obvious that Mrs. Weasley had imparted the gist of Harry’s visit to her husband for he was looking very cheerful at the mention of it.

 

“Um…yes, Sir.  Did she tell you why I came by?”

 

“Something to do with some plans for Friday, I believe.”  His expression gave nothing away.

 

Harry stood very stiff, wondering if Mr. Weasley really understood the plans and if he approved.  It was one thing to discuss this with Ginny’s mother, but to face her father and for him to know that he intended on taking his daughter away from her home, that was something else.  Somehow Harry sensed that getting Mr. Weasley’s blessing would smooth things over with the other five brothers.  He knew Ron approved, but he’d need father and best mate both on his side if he was going to face the other very protective Weasley siblings.

 

Mr. Weasley placed a fatherly arm around his shoulders, drawing him away from the stairs and the kitchen entry.  Harry tensed, even with his pleasant expression he still felt unsure of what would be said next.  Mr. Weasley spoke softly.

 

“Son, you have my blessing, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  Harry nodded, feeling relieved, but kept quiet sensing there was more to come.

 

“You know, I suspect if your father were alive, he’d tell you this.  Giving your heart to a woman can be the most fulfilling and wonderful thing in your life.  But, making a commitment to another person, a _lifetime_ commitment, can be a struggle at times.  It will also bring you great joy as long as you love and respect that person and never break your vow to be true to them.  I’d tell my daughter the same thing.”

 

“Yes, Sir.  I understand.”

 

With a paternal pat on the back, Mr. Weasley stepped away, apparently satisfied that Harry had heard him loud and clear.

 

“Is Ginny home?”

 

“I believe she’s up in her room.  I take it that’s for her?”  He pointed toward the box under Harry’s arm.

 

He nodded and Mr. Weasley walked over to the stairs and called up.  “Ginny!  You have a visitor.”

 

“A peace offering?”  Mr. Weasley stated with raised brows.

 

“What?”

 

“Just wondering if that is a peace offering after your row this afternoon.”

 

“We didn’t have a row, Sir.”  Harry started to scan his memory for fear of having missed something.

 

“Oh, well, it’s just that she came home looking very angry and muttering something with your name so, I just thought…”

 

They heard a door click and footsteps on the stairs, Ginny appearing a moment later.  A smile erupted on her face the moment she recognized who her visitor actually was.  If Harry was feeling shy by the presence of Mr. Weasley, Ginny made up for it ten fold.  Her feet barely reached the first floor before her arms were around him and her lips firmly planted on his, forcing him to set the box down on the sofa.

 

A clearing throat announced Mr. Weasley’s exit from the room and they both glanced to make sure they were alone before Ginny spoke.

 

“What are you doing here?  Did the time change for the party?”

 

“Oh, no.  Nothing like that.  It’s just that I have a present for you and I wanted to give it to you before tonight.”  He picked the box back up and held it out to her.

 

Her eyes lit up and she was about to pull off the ribbon when Harry put a hand on her arm.

 

“Wait.  Don’t open it here.  You need to open it in private.”

 

Her eyebrows rose and lips pursed.  “Intriguing.”

 

“Let me just say that I thought I’d take your advice about my speech tonight, but if I’m going to imagine anyone in their underwear, I’d prefer it was you.”  He placed a simple kiss on her cheek.

 

“Harry, I’m sorry about before.  I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize.  He deserved it.”

 

“He just made me so angry.  I was ready to hex his bits off!”  Ginny realized her volume was increasing and quickly softened, looking around to make sure she hadn’t attracted too much attention.

 

“Well, I think you taught him his lesson….Mrs. Potter.”  Harry leaned in, almost whispering the end of his sentence with a definite grin on his face.

 

She smiled.  “Oh, yeah…”  She chuckled.  “That was interesting that they all thought that.”

 

“I think it’s interesting that you didn’t correct any of them.”  Harry smiled a bit wider.  Thinking ahead to his plans for them, he was curious about her response.  Hopefully, in about 24 hours, she’d agree to _be_ Mrs. Potter.  For now he was enjoying the sound of it.  Based on the blush that just appeared on her cheeks, he must have hit upon a daring topic of conversation.

 

“Well, I guess I was just…I was angry and I didn’t hear them.”

 

“Mmm Hmm.”  He still smiled, nodding along like he believed her even though he knew she noted the sarcasm in his gesture.  For all her efforts to remain indignant, Harry saw the strain in her cheeks from holding back the grin.

 

“I have to get ready for the party.”

 

“Alright, I’ll be back to pick you up in about an hour.”  He winked at her and with a pop he was gone.

 

*** 

 

Mrs. Weasley came in a second later.  “Where is Harry?”

 

“Oh, he had to go.  He’ll be back to pick me up in a bit.”

 

“What’s in the box?”  Mrs. Weasley smiled, drying her hands on a towel from the doorway.

 

“A gift.”  She glanced down at the box in her hands.

 

“Well, open it.”

 

Heading for the stairway, she added. “I think I’ll open it in my room, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Well, alright, but you had better let me know what he brought you.”  Ginny was already halfway up the steps and Mrs. Weasley just smiled and shook her head, heading back to the kitchen.

 

*** 

 

Hermione giggled about six times before finishing her shower.  In fact, Ron’s aggressive move toward her sent very naughty thoughts through her as she stood naked in the rushing water.  Years of waiting for him to finally make a move seemed to have finally paid off and she was anxious for more.  Making sure the door to Ron’s room was locked, she pulled out her new dress, stockings, shoes and other unmentionables.  She had to admit that dressing up felt good and this really did look nice on her.  She had a pair of black lace knickers, but decided on comfort for the evening and pulled up the cotton ones instead.  After all, no one was going to see them, despite the desires of her over eager boyfriend in the next room  After drawing the stockings up her legs, she examined the matching black lace bra that Parvati had insisted she purchase.

 

Hermione had never been very large chested, but she still thought she looked nice.  There was no desire to stick out like some of those women she saw in the magazines.  However, since it was a special occasion and especially since she really wanted to knock Ron’s socks off, she pulled it on, adjusting it and finally stepping in front of the mirror.

 

“No wonder it’s a Wonder Bra.”  She now had definite cleavage and she pulled on the dress and checked herself one more time, noting at how the dress looked much more impressive with this new lingerie enhancing her curves.  With a flick of her wrist, her hair pulled up into a curly, but manageable twist.  She donned the earrings and slipped on her new three inch heels, remembering her lessons in walking with Ginny.

 

It wouldn’t look good for her to fall off her shoes tonight.  She considered doing a glamour and adding something to her eyes, but finally decided that a Foundation Cocktail didn’t warrant a lot of make-up.  So, she settled for a bit of lip gloss and she tossed her other clothes in the bag.  Hermione was pleased for she felt classy, but still conservative: not too out of her league. Concentrating on her walk, she made her way down the hall, which carpeted, didn’t produce much sound.

 

Ron was sitting at the table, his back to her, it appeared writing a letter.  The pink note lie next to him on the table and she suspected he was responding to the leggy brunette, she hoped with a denial as he had promised.  Somehow she wondered if he would show it to her, but she decided instead to just enjoy the next few moments.

 

Up to this point, she really hadn’t planned anything, but suddenly erotic images flashed before her and she decided to put on a bit of a show.  Always the studious one, she had done her homework and thanked Ginny for the pleasant, warm sensations some of that reading had given her.  Recalling Chapter 5 of ‘Enticing Your Man’ she reached behind her and lowered the zipper on her dress just enough to reveal the black lace underneath.  A quick glance around the room indicated the perfect spot and she walked slow over to the nearby chair and grasped hold of the back and turned her foot up as if adjusting the buckle on her strappy new shoe.

 

It couldn’t have been her imagination, for one peripheral glance through her lowered lashes confirmed his expression.  She almost felt the heat of his gaze on her back as she lowered her foot.  

 

Turning to face him, she fully expected his eyes to move to her chest and although he tried to be discreet, she still noticed his focus shift down a couple of times.  Walking as smoothly as she could, she approached him and spun around.

 

“Ron, could you zip this up the rest of the way.”

 

The zipper slid up, but she smiled sensing a slight tremble from his hands dealing with the tiny pull.

 

“You-you look gorgeous, Hermione.”

 

_Well, that did the trick._   She smiled to herself and turned around.

 

“Thank you, Ronald.  Are we ready?”

 

Ron’s mouth was still hanging open and it appeared he had lost all motor function so, Hermione walked over to him and reached up to fuss with his shirt collar (page 72), even though it needed no adjusting.  His hands slipped around her waist and she thought _Mission Accomplished_ to herself.

 

“I take it back.  You look brilliant in black.”

 

“We’d better go or we’ll be late.”  She reached around to grab her clutch, but Ron still had hold of her waist.

 

“This is going to be a great party.”  He smiled, his blue eyes shining.

 

“How do you know?” she responded absently.

 

“This is my first party with you as my official girlfriend.”  He pulled her close and kissed her briefly, but with definite meaning.  “It _is_ okay if I kiss you more now, right?”

 

“Oh, please do.  I told you that was my second condition.”  That reminder brought out another smile from Ron’s face.

 

“Can I tell everyone about us?”  Ron’s face beamed with excitement and a hopeful anticipation.  It was almost child-like and Hermione wondered if this is how he appeared as a little boy when sharing some wonderful story with his mother.

 

She smirked, thoroughly enjoying this.  “Well, if you keep acting like you are, I’m sure everyone will figure it out.  Shall we?”

 

*** 

 

Arriving at the ballroom, Ron and Hermione presented their invitation to the ushers at the door and made their way through the crowd of people that had gathered near the entrance.  Once inside the main doors, Hermione spun around, looking at the beautiful décor.

 

“Isn’t it lovely in here?”

 

Ron returned his hand to the small of her back, feeling very proud to be escorting the gorgeous creature beside him.  “I think the loveliest thing in this room is you.”

 

She kept her chin down, but turned toward him, glancing through her soft lashes.  “Thank you.”

 

Since the formal declaration of their relationship, Ron had been standing much taller, feeling much bolder and pretty much wanted to shout the news to everyone.  His plan was to keep as close to her tonight as possible.  She was so beautiful and the fact that they had actually snogged on his bed tonight, well that did wonders for his confidence in their coupling.

 

His angel was still proper, but she was definitely showing another side to herself tonight.  He couldn’t take his eyes off of her curvy hips as she preceded him across the room.  If this is what had been hiding under those trousers and black robes all this time, then ‘wow’ because those legs were sensational in those high heels.  She had found Harry in the crowd and Ron quickly offered a hand.  

 

“Welcome, mate!  So, what do you think?”  Harry gestured to the room around them.

 

“It looks nice.”

 

Harry took a step back and gave Hermione the quick once over.  “Wow, Hermione.  You look fantastic!”

 

“Thanks, Harry.  Where’s Ginny?”

 

“Oh, she ran off to handle some issue with the wrong hors d’oeuvres or something.  Listen, there’s all kinds of food over on the tables and butterbeer, wine and other drinks being passed around.  So, enjoy yourself, alright?”

 

Harry’s attention was drawn away with a tap on his shoulder from a rather short, stubby looking man and Hermione must have recognized someone for she reached back and took Ron’s hand, pulling him across the parquet floor.

 

A waiter with a tray of drinks walked past them and Ron stopped to lift two glasses from the tray.  He usually wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but he thought it suited the occasion.  A young, dark-haired man walked up to Hermione, looking very pleased to see her.

 

“Hermione?  Wow!  You look fantastic!”

 

“Hi, Evan.  I didn’t know you were coming to this.”  He leaned over and kissed her cheek and Hermione looked rather surprised at the gesture, something Ron noticed with alarming speed as he arrived with the drinks.

 

“Yes, my uncle is really into charitable causes and he pulls me along to these events all the time.  He says it gives him a chance to put on his dress robes.  I think he’s hoping I’ll find myself a wife at one of these.”  Evan winked before Ron cleared his throat and offered the glass of wine to his girlfriend.

 

“Thank you.” She took the glass and downed a rather long sip, shifting just a bit closer to him.  Ron got the uneasy feeling that she wasn’t all that keen on talking with this man, but she continued on with the introductions anyway. “Oh, I’m sorry.  Ron, I’d like you to meet Evan Walters.  He is heading up the ad campaign for the Ministry.”

 

“Evan, this is…” she made eye contact with Ron for a split second before smiling “my boyfriend, Ron Weasley.”

 

Evan offered a toothy, far too white, smile as he shook Ron’s hand.  “Pleased to meet you, Ron.  We’ve heard all about you, of course.  The famous Trio.  I wasn’t aware that the two of you were a couple.”

 

If Ron had ever instantly distrusted anyone, it was him.  He was far too good looking and much too friendly with Hermione for his taste.  Besides, Ron was feeling particularly possessive tonight and his arm reached around Hermione’s waist as if to reinforce the point, adding, “Oh, yes.  We’ve been close for years.”  

 

Despite his impression that Hermione felt uncomfortable around this man, she continued chatting for several minutes with the Prince Charming wanna-be, probably out of sheer politeness.  Two other guests wandered up and joined in the conversation as Ron played along, smiling and nodding, his hand never leaving Hermione’s waist.  Her scent was wonderful, but seeing her in that dress was truly intoxicating.  With his height and her position, he couldn’t help but get an eye-full every time he glanced down, and he made a point of glancing a lot!  

 

_Has she always been that curvy?  Boy, this wine seems to be going straight to my head.  It’s hot in here with all these people!_

 

“Ron?”

 

“What?”  His finger was pulling at his collar.

 

“I asked if you wanted to get something to eat?”

 

“Oh…yeah, that would be great.”  Ron set his wine glass down on a passing tray and followed her to the food tables.  Some of these things looked suspiciously foreign and Ron wasn’t sure, especially about this odd looking item Hermione called Sushi.  However, he managed to fill himself with an adequate supply of something called Brioche and Quiche.

 

The party was in full swing and Harry’s Foundation was surely going to reap the rewards of such a big crowd.  The large glass jar in the front of the room was filling with Galleons.  Where all these wealthy people came from was a mystery.  Ron had heard of many wealthy wizarding families, but not this many.

 

“Hermione, come here.”  He pulled her aside where they could have a moment in private.  “Don’t you feel kind of guilty eating all this free food and not putting some money into the kitty?”

 

Her tilted head usually brought with it a reprimand of some kind and Ron braced himself, fearing he had somehow said something inappropriate.  However, as the corners of her mouth crinkled up, she palmed the front of his robes.  “Ronald, Harry doesn’t expect you to put anything in the pot.”

 

“I know he _said_ that, but I feel like a moocher out here all dressed up and drinking wine.”

 

The room appeared full of some of the wealthiest big-wigs in wizarding Britain, certainly not a place for a poor Weasley.  Just when he was ready to really get into self-deprecation mode, he felt her soft hand slip into his and tug.  Guilty or not, he wasn’t about to let Hermione go anywhere without him tonight so, he followed willingly, even when she pulled him up onto the stage where the band was getting ready to play.

 

First of all, he was startled when she displayed a wand for he had no earthly clue where she could have been stashing it in that handful of fabric.  He’d barely had time to consider all of her possible hiding locations when she placed the tip to her throat, a sonorous issued forth to amplify her voice.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches and Wizards!  May I have your attention please!”

 

A million bedecked and bedazzled faces turned toward them and Ron struggled to get a deep breath as she continued to the now hushed crowd.

 

“Most of you probably know me.  My name is Hermione Granger and next to me is Ronald Weasley…”  Before she could say anymore, the crowd erupted into a round of applause that seemed to even surprise her.

 

“Thank you.  We appreciate all of your support and gratitude, but we are here tonight to help the many families who have been torn apart by the very evil that we,” she gestured to herself and Ron “and Harry and so many others worked to destroy.”

 

Again, the sound of clapping filling the room.  Ron seemed to relax just a bit and had to admire the way that Hermione was addressing this crowd.  Her eyes shown brightly with energy and conviction without really thinking, Ron placed his hand around her shoulders, really not interested in anyone else’s opinion.

 

“I know you are all going to hear from the guest of honor is a little while, but Ron has come up with a wonderful challenge for all of you.”

 

Ron’s eyes widened.  Was there some plan he had missed?  He really had no choice but to stand tall and hope that she wasn’t about to get him into a world of trouble.  Just then he noticed his parents standing at the back of the room, his father holding up his glass to Ron in a silent toast, the other arm wrapped around his mother’s waist.

 

“Ron has agreed that for every twenty five Galleons that are donated in the next ten minutes, he will pose for a photo and personally autograph an item of your choice.”

 

The volume in the hall grew ten fold and Hermione gestured for them to head over toward the big glass bowl.  Ron stood in shock and awe as dozens of people pushed through the crowd and dropped their money into the bowl, all lining up in front of him with eager faces.

 

“Blimey, Hermione!”  He turned to speak discreetly just to her.  “All these people want my autograph?”

 

Hermione pulled out a self-inking quill and waved to Ginny who was already talking to the photographer.

 

Ron spent the next thirty minutes smiling with mostly women, young and old alike.  Although the majority were married, widowed or otherwise unappealing or unavailable women.  One elderly lady sporting a bright yellow feather in her hair, insisted on a picture with her kissing his cheek, but her feather forced a sneeze from Ron just after the click of the camera.  Two other motherly types squeezed his cheeks to which he grimaced.  One girl who reminded him a bit of his sister when she was about thirteen, giggled the entire time, unable to even speak to him. 

 

An icepack was on Ron’s shortlist at the end of the session, for his hand was developing a cramp from all the autographs he had given.  Ginny had assumed the role of accountant and all of that guilt washed away when she informed him that he had singularly brought in more than 3000 Galleons just for his smile and autograph.

 

They thought the line was gone when a very tall young brunette walked up to the stage.  Ron had just stepped down to the floor, directly below the glass bowl and was about to take a break when she approached.  Hermione and Ginny had been so busy counting that neither one seemed to notice ‘sex on stilettos’ licking her very full, very red lips as she swung her hair back.

 

“Hello, Ronald.”  Her voice was breathy.  “I would like to make a donation.”

 

Still in photo/autograph mode, Ron just smiled until he looked up and saw his pink-note nemesis standing before him.  Brittany once again seemed to have proximity issues and the fact that her dress was so low and her cleavage so high that if she got any closer to him, Ron thought his life might just end prematurely from a well-directed spell off Hermione’s wand.  He tried to break his wide-eyed gawk at her chest with a long blink and swallowed just as she dipped her manicured fingers into the deep crevasse between her breasts.  

 

His first inclination was to tell her to get lost, but standing before this crowd at Harry’s gathering, he did his best to be gracious.  “That would be great.” He squeaked, his deeper voice having moved south along with the rest of his circulation.

 

  _Hermione is watching!  You know you don’t want this girl.  Pull yourself together, man!_   

 

Her long fingers smoothly withdrew several large gold coins that Ron recognized as quite a bit of money.  For a fleeting second, Ron wondered what else she might be hiding in between her… _Well, gee whiz, now that I’ve gone lingerie shopping, I’d have to say she’s about a double D, right?  Stop staring at them, Ron!  But, oh my God, they’re…they’re…_

 

His erotic thoughts were interrupted by the deep exhale of a certain girlfriend standing behind him.

 

_Oh God, I’m dead.  I’m so dead._   

 

 

Before he had a chance to chastise himself anymore, Brittany’s next request put him head first into the path of the freight train known as Hermione Granger.

 

“All I ask for in return is a kiss.”

 

He tried not to squeak, he really did, but it came out kind of warbly anyway.  “A kiss?”

 

“Just one.” She spoke slowly, her pouty red lips slightly open and Ron’s heart kicked into high gear.  

 

 

_On the cheek?  Oh, please not on the mouth.  Tongue!  No!  Oh, Lord, please no tongue!_

 

With legs made of concrete blocks, Ron remained motionless, not even daring to move his head.  If he did, the fire in Hermione’s eyes would surely burn right through him.  He felt totally paralyzed with indecision when a soft arm brushed against his and he realized Hermione’s presence beside him.

 

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Weasley doesn’t give out kisses for anything less than 200 Galleons and I’m afraid my bid beats out yours.”  She stood defiant, her arm wrapped around his and he suddenly felt safe and a bit more sure-footed.

 

What ensued next would surely be recorded in the annals of wizarding history as the most profitable auction of one man’s lips.

 

Brittany gave Hermione a discarded glance.  “I bid 300 Galleons then.”

 

“Four hundred.”  Hermione answered without hesitation.

 

“Five”

 

“Six”

 

Ginny quickly stepped in, acting as auctioneer and Harry approached the stage in clear view of Hermione as they continued.

 

“I have Six Hundred Galleons as the bid, do I hear Seven Hundred?” Ginny jumped in.

 

“Seven!” called a voice out from the back of the hall and Ron saw a middle aged woman waving at him with a devilish grin.

 

Ginny continued.  “Alright, that’s seven hundred…”

 

“Two Thousand Galleons!”  Brittany must have taken smirking lessons from Draco Malfoy, for she had it down pat and the crowd gasped at the amount offered.

 

Ron continued to stand, dumbfounded at the exchange happening before him, terrified of the outcome and yet excited to see his Hermione putting up such a fight for him.  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her and Harry focus on each other for a moment before she countered.

 

“Two Thousand Five Hundred.”  

 

“Well, ladies and gentleman, we have twenty five hundred going for what must be a fantastic kiss from our own Ron Weasley!”  Ron could tell that Ginny was struggling to keep things in order.

 

Now Brittany had given up on facing him and had moved in front of Hermione, her chest protruding out near Hermione’s chin.  Ron drew back, taking a few small steps toward the drapes at the corner of the stage, sure of the cat fight he was about to witness.

 

This time her voice was low and threatening as she spoke the amount slowly.  “Five Thousand Galleons.  Hm!”

 

“I have a bid of five thousand.  Now, this is my brother of course…” the crowd laughed, still apparently in the spirit  “so, I can’t say if his kisses are all that fantastic, but he is a cutie, right ladies?!”

 

The women in the room let out a rousing cheer followed by a few cat calls.  Just when Ginny thought she had everything running along smoothly…

 

“See here, bitch!  I want him and you can’t afford him!  Ten Thousand Galleons!!”  Brittany yelled.

 

What used to be a loud rumble of voices, reacting to the escalating prices was now totally hushed.  It was like a collective breath had been sucked in from the entire crowd and they were all holding it.

 

Hermione’s eyes stared back like daggers, shifting once again toward Harry.  Ron noticed the wink from Harry just before Hermione screamed out.

 

“Well, you can’t have him!  He’s mine!!  FIFTY THOUSAND GALLEONS!!”

 

“You don’t have that kind of money!  Pay up or move over honey!”  Brittany tried to push her way past Hermione, entirely set to get her kiss when Harry spoke up, his wand pointed at his throat.

 

“Her bid is covered by me personally.”

 

Her small body came barreling at him with such speed that he nearly fell over when Hermione’s lips attacked his.  Stumbling at the sheer force of their impact, Ron found himself wrapped up in a combination of Hermione’s arms and the thick velvet burgundy drapes.  So overpowering was her grip on him that he never heard the sound of cheers crashing over the room.

 

How he landed on a small chair behind the curtain was unknown, but her urgings finally broke him free of his celebrity and he started to return her kisses.  She was sweet and warm, sitting on his lap, her hands running through his hair, her mouth involved in an unrelenting assault on his.

 

His arms relaxed from her waist and fell, landing on an overly exposed thigh, the result of that black dress hiking up as she jumped into his seat.  As if the kisses weren’t enough, Ron’s brain finally decided to relay to him the important fact that his new and very hot girlfriend had just screamed to the crowd that he was hers and bid a ludicrous amount of money, of which he knew she didn’t have, just to kiss him!

 

Ron’s eyes opened in enlightenment for a brief second and then returned her kisses with great fervor, deeply, passionately, one hand’s fingertips just brushing over the outside curve of her breast before he moved it back down to safer territory.  

 

  _I must be dreaming.  This can’t be my Hermione.  Bloody hell, she smells wonderful and what is she doing with that tongue!_   

 

The aggressiveness behind her kisses started to wane, replaced by a yearning and tenderness.  Several times her lips strayed from his mouth and would unexpectedly explore his jaw or cheek before returning.  Then, of course, the sounds.  That pretty much blew him away.  The soft mewing noises she made – they were like bread to a starving man as he held her close.  This embrace defied all others in their storied past, his hand holding her hip against him as she wiggled on his lap, her breasts pressed up against his chest.

 

Ten or twenty minutes must have passed before she pulled back, panting.  Ron opened his eyes, dazed and flushed, but totally enraptured at the sight of her swollen pink lips and heaving chest that struggled to calm itself.  This girl, this woman was so engrained in his life, her happiness was his own, her sorrow grieved him and her passions permeated his very skin.  Ron understood with perfect clarity how his life could never be complete without Hermione’s constant, sustaining, intoxicating presence.

 

Neither of them spoke, for the moment was too powerful, too internalized for words.  Somehow they had removed the final barrier between them, stripping away all shyness and insecurity.  Hermione had revealed her naked soul to him and he felt a rapturous joy start to build in his neck, then his ears and finally showed itself by streaming down his cheeks.  Unable to revert his eyes from her gaze, he begged and pleaded with himself to imprint this memory on his heart and never forget it.

 

She reached up and ran her thumb over the tear that had defiled his cheek, her smile a shining signal to him that they were about to embark on a new and wonderful journey.  

 

“I love you Ron.”  

 

Ron’s thoughts flashed back to his previously identical statement.  Even spoken in the heat of passion, she had heard him.

 

“And I want you, too.”

 

This kiss, so full of love, sealed the deal, their souls forever entwined, never to part.

 

All was still, even with the sounds of the crowd just on the other side of the curtain and Ron almost wished he could just stay here with her forever.  However, the curtain parted and a female voice cleared its throat.

 

“Alright you two.  I think you got your fifty thousand worth, Hermione.  Why don’t you come out and join the party.”  Ginny held the drape open for them with a wide smile.

 

She slid from his lap, pulling her dress back down and quickly checking her hair to make sure it was still up.  With a swift wipe of his face, Ron blew out a breath and offered his arm which Hermione took and they walked through the velvet opening, Ginny nudging Ron as he did.  He couldn’t help but smile when the crowd began to applaud as they re-entered the room.

 

A male voice from somewhere in the crowd yelled out.  “That must have been one hell of a kiss!”  Even Ron had to join in the laughter that ensued, Hermione content to just blush.

 

His parents had made their way to the front of the room and, both smiling, approached them.  Ron could only thank his lucky stars that none of his brothers had been invited to this event.  Torture was too gentle a word to describe what the twins would have put him through if they had witnessed this.  It was difficult enough having his parents view the auctioning off of his lips.  He did his best to put a good spin on things.

 

“Hi, Mum.  Glad you could come.”

 

The smirk on his mother’s face seemed to confirm her approval.  Then she turned to address his new girlfriend.

 

“Hermione, I wasn’t aware that you were that wealthy!  I’ll have to become better friends with your parents.”  

 

Ron’s smile widened, watching his father join in on the jest.

 

“Son, you might want to straighten yourself out.  Looks like she gave you a good once over.  Hermione, you really need to go easy on the boy.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”   Ron could almost _feel_ her blush, the heat between them was so intense. 

 

Ron quickly ran a hand through his fringe, hoping to put things right again.  A few other girls had joined his mother, approaching Hermione, engaging her in conversation.  It wasn’t hard to decipher the topic, based on all the giggles surrounding her.

 

Mr. Weasley steered Ron a few steps to the side, turning him away from the group of ladies.  “So, son, when did this all start?”

 

“You mean Hermione and I?”

 

Nodding, he added, “Yes, well I knew you had been dating off and on, but this looks rather serious.”

 

“Um…yeah.  Well, really just a few days ago.  Things just started to click.”

 

“Well that’s wonderful son.  Hermione’s a great girl.”

 

Ron felt that urge again and his cheeks rose without complaint as he leaned in a bit closer.  “She told me she loves me.”

 

With some unspoken contract, Mr. Weasley offered a firm pat and smiled before Ron walked proudly to the group of ladies.

 

“Excuse me ladies, but I believe my fifty thousand galleon date deserves more of my undivided attention.”  He offered an elbow and Hermione took it as he escorted her to an empty couple of chairs in the back corner of the ballroom.

 

*** 

 

After Hermione’s rather audacious display, Brittany turned, a look of fury on her face and started to march out of the room.  Only Harry’s quick thinking, kept her at the party, stopping to thank her personally and ask if she would dance with him because ‘surely, anyone willing to so generously give to such a noble cause certainly deserved a dance with the host.’

 

She seemed to calm down a bit after that and soon he saw her laughing again, the center of attention amongst a group of younger men.  Hermione’s brilliant scheme had brought in a large amount of donations and even though Harry had just given up fifty thousand himself, it was nothing he wouldn’t have paid out on his own anyway.  Besides, how could he turn down the pleading look Hermione was sending his way during that entire exchange and he was just so happy to see his two best friends finally getting together.  It was well worth fifty thousand galleons.

 

Between his family’s inheritance, Sirius’ estate, his investment in WWW among others and several rewards he had received, Harry was wealthy enough to just live off the interest for the rest of his life anyway.

 

However, he decided to pursue a more mainstream life, maintaining a job, an apartment and living modestly.  So far his only extravagance had been the two carat diamond that sat in that box, awaiting Ginny’s acceptance. 

 

Harry had been working the crowd, his gaze always spotting Ginny as she moved about, laughing and working as the social hostess extraordinaire.  She had a way about her and Harry had watched as she complimented a rather large donation from one of the ugliest men he had ever seen.  One wink or tilted grin and that gorgeous red hair just put the words ‘yes’ in just about any man’s mouth.  Even the ladies seemed to like her and Harry felt even more special for her presence in his heart.

 

Soon, she gave him the signal that it was time for his speech and Harry made his way to the stage, glancing one last time at his notes.  As he approached the stage, his heart began to pick up the pace for he hadn’t lied when he told Ginny that he got a bit nervous in front of big crowds.  Harry had never considered himself all that eloquent and knowing how much work Ginny had put into organizing this event, he really wanted to do his best.

 

He quickly silenced the crowd and started his speech.  Once again, Ginny’s forethought had provided him with a sort of magical prompter that displayed his speech only to him, the words floating past the corner of the podium like a marquee.  He thanked everyone for coming and then launched in a small report of the different charities this event was supporting, giving a brief summary of their activities and his visits over the past two months.

 

Everything was running along smoothly until Harry looked away from the prompter and was hit with the dozens of faces all staring back at him.  A tightening in his throat was followed with a wave of heat that ran through him and he paused, trying to regain some composure.  Immediately searching out the one person he knew could help, he spotted her right in the center of the crowd and she was moving forward, placing herself just ten feet away, smiling all the while.

 

With a wink, she casually reached over as if to adjust the strap on her dress, but instead moved it aside just enough that Harry saw the red strap of the lingerie he had purchased for her that afternoon.  The love of his life easily won out over the nerves in his system and he smiled and focused back on the words floating before him.  Soon, he had completed his update and the audience all offered a round of applause.

 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I invite you all to welcome our band and kick your heels up for the rest of the night.  Don’t forget to fill that bowl!”  He pointed toward the glass orb, now almost half full with coins.

 

Almost immediately, the room filled with music and couple after couple swarmed the dance floor.  Harry ran up to Ginny whose back was turned toward him, having been pulled into another meet and greet.  He didn’t see that the partners in her conversation just happened to be her parents.  At least not in time, for he had circled her waist, lifting her off the floor as he spun her around speaking in an excited but soft tone.

 

“You are so sexy!”  She squealed in delight before he noticed the raised eyebrow on Mr. Weasley and set her down carefully, clearing his throat.

 

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  I hope you’re having a good time.”

 

All Harry’s feeble mind would process was the threat of Mr. Weasley retracting his blessing and sending Ginny to the convent, like Ron had suggested earlier in the week.

 

_I wonder if they let nuns out on weekend passes or anything?_

 

“Yes, Harry, we’re having a wonderful time and it appears you are as well.”

 

Suddenly Harry got a brilliant idea.  “Yes, it looks like Ron is outdoing us all tonight!”

 

  _Good move.  Draw the attention off yourself._

 

They all glanced toward the back of the room and saw Hermione and Ron sitting very closely, Ron smiling as she spoke.

 

“Mrs. Weasley, would you care to dance?”  Harry reached out a hand.  She smiled and took it and Harry noticed a second later that Ginny had pulled her father out as well.

 

He offered his most gentlemanly stance and Mrs. Weasley took his hand and they started to dance.  When Harry was certain that Ginny and her father were not within earshot, he spoke up.

 

“So, Mrs. Weasley, how is everything coming for tomorrow night?”

 

“Fine, just fine, dear.  I’ll have all her favorites ready by six.  I’m sure she’ll be surprised.”

 

He navigated them through several other couples.  “Can you think of a way to keep her away from the Burrow for a little while tomorrow afternoon?  I’d like to come over around five and get things ready.”

 

“I’m sure I can find a way.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

“You do realize that pretty soon you’ll have to start calling me Mum.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”  She quirked an eyebrow and Harry realized his slip.  “I mean, yes…um..Mum.” 

 

Once again, he spun them around, his eyes still watching for Ginny.

 

“So Harry?  Exactly how sexy to do you think my daughter is?”

 

_Oh, God._

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

 

“Sorry for thinking she’s sexy?  Or, sorry for the fact that I heard you say it?”

 

Harry was sure he just saw Ginny dressed in a long black gown with a white habit over her head.  

 

“Um…the second one, I guess.”  He almost stepped on her feet and had to really concentrate to keep his composure.

 

“I thought so.”  She grinned.  “I think we should switch partners, what do you think?”

 

“Oh, yes, ma’am.  I mean…if you’d like we can.”  He did his best to steer her toward the dancing redheads in the center of the floor.  Moments later the music changed to a slower tune and Harry released Mrs. Weasley and tapped Mr. Weasley on the shoulder.

 

“Care to switch partners?”

 

Mr. Weasley looked to his wife with a grin.  “Absolutely!”  And, he spun Ginny around into Harry’s waiting arms before taking his wife in his.

 

Ginny had a pleasant expression, but there was a question in her eyes.  It just lingered beneath the surface, but he sensed it.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s a good thing my father doesn’t know that I’m wearing the red lace bra and knickers you bought me today.”

 

“Shh!”  The tips of Harry’s ears had to have been turning bright red because he could feel the smoldering heat from within them.

 

“What?  Are you afraid someone might hear?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She pulled him closer and whispered in his ear.  “Then you should be careful about what you say in front of my father.”

 

“Please tell me he’s not sending you to the convent.”

 

“The what?!  Harry, you are such a….”

 

“A what?”

 

Her smile finished the sentence and he returned his, finally telling her something he had wanted to the entire evening.

 

“I never got a chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.”

 

“You just like the red lacy lingerie.”  She joked back.

 

“I love the whole package, actually.  And I particularly love the girl in my arms.”

 

She didn’t answer, but nuzzled her head up against his chest as they continued to sway.  He held her close, his arms wrapped around her back and just closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of her head.  This was one of those moments to treasure and Harry didn’t want for it to end.  They must have rocked back and forth through several songs, Harry hadn’t really kept track when Brittany walked up.

 

“Mr. Potter?  I do believe you owe me a dance.”  Harry opened his eyes, still not releasing Ginny as he heard this.  One sway later, he stepped back and gave Ginny a soft kiss on the forehead.

 

“I did promise you that, didn’t I?”  He turned to his love.  “Gin, why don’t you find us something to drink while I dance with our charitable guest.”

 

Probably due to her earlier behavior with Hermione, Ginny looked a bit wary and gave the girl a look that clearly stated ‘if you try anything, I’ll kill you’ and then walked away.

 

Harry felt pretty confident.  After all, what could happen in one dance.  He turned to his new dance partner to find she was walking toward the stage and said something to the band member.  Then she walked, very smoothly, to a large vase of flowers on the nearby table and withdrew a rose and headed back toward Harry.

 

She was acting rather odd, but Harry prepared himself for the dance.  Suddenly, without any warning, the music erupted into a very lively tango and the girl before him placed the stem of the rose between her teeth.

 

_What the hell is going on?_

 

She took full advantage of the high slit in her dress and stretched out a long leg and swung it around the back of Harry’s calf, her hand now on his shoulder.  Harry had no idea how to tango and more so, he didn’t want to, especially not with the bodacious brunette of auction hell.

 

Harry felt out of control as she started to lead.  She was actually pushing him around the dance floor and dancing with as much provocativeness as a she-leopard in heat!  Harry had no choice but move along with her or risk falling over or getting a very thorny rose stem shoved up his nose!

 

He did his best to keep up as they walked cheek to cheek across the floor and then she spun around and lay back so that Harry was forced to dip her or drop her.  His eyes nearly popped from their sockets when her breasts fell so far forward, he was sure they were going to burst free of their anchorage any second.  They were like giant water balloon buoys and Harry glanced at the thorns on the rose stem, hoping it wouldn’t prick her.

 

Just then he noticed that the crowd had parted, giving them full use of the dance floor and he panicked, standing as still as possible.

 

No matter, she simply walked around him, dragging the rose petals against his chest, then arm, then back and returning before wrapping that leg around him again.  Harry tried to recall anything he could about watching people tango just to try and keep up, but this woman was very flexible.  She stepped back and swung her leg high up into the air.

 

  _No.  She can’t seriously be…Oh, God, she did it!_

 

Her ankle landed on Harry’s shoulder and he was forced to grab hold or fall backwards.  The fact that she was only about an inch shorter than he didn’t help any either.  He didn’t have much leverage to pick her up or move her about and so he did his best to just get through it.

 

Harry’s focus was such that he never heard the crowd, apparently enjoying the display.  He was too panicked to enjoy anything.  Not only did he feel like he was being put on display, but he knew that Ginny was watching this and thoroughly unamused.  

 

In what must have been the grande finale, she dropped onto the floor into something like the splits and reached out a hand for Harry to pull her up.  Then she spun around and pressed herself against him, dragging the rose down his face and finally arching her back so far that Harry had to strain to hold her, no choice but to find his face directly in the line of sight with her overexposed cleavage.

 

_It’s over.  Thank GOD!_

 

The song had ended and they received another rousing round of applause as he did his best to help her up.  Ginny, with Ron and Hermione behind her, walked up holding two glasses of something.  It had ice and at this point, Harry just wanted to pour it over his head and down his pants and make a run for it.

 

Ginny’s voice was smooth and almost villainous as she handed them the glasses.

 

“Brittany, you must be parched after that wonderful display.  My, you are quite the dancer!  Here, why don’t you cool off with a nice drink.”  Ginny smiled and handed her the glass of pink fruit punch, pushing the other one toward Harry.

 

“For you Harry?”

 

“Um…thanks, Ginny.”  Harry glanced down at the pinkish liquid, not entirely sure he should drink it.

 

“Yes, thank you Ms. Weasley for allowing me to borrow your dance partner.  He is quite good don’t you think?”

 

Ginny had spun around, picking up a glass of wine for herself and held it up in a toast.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!  To Harry and Brittany, for their wonderful entertainment!”

 

Everyone started to drink, everyone that is, except Harry.  He looked around, holding the glass up to his lips and taking a slow whiff.

 

  _She wouldn’t poison me over this would she?  I am in such deep shite.  I think I might have to double the size of that diamond to even start to get out of this hole!_

 

Harry happened to notice that Ron’s gaze was fixed firmly on him, a sad look about him that he wasn’t sure how to read.  Meanwhile, he saw Brittany smiling at the adulation from the crowd as she sipped her drink.  He was almost afraid to watch.  It was like slow motion, the way his eyes drifted from one person to the next, all happily sipping their cool drinks.

 

Ginny smiled in between sips.  “Harry, you aren’t drinking.  You must be thirsty.”

 Harry held it back up, but still didn’t drink, certain he would see it bubbling and spewing smoke any second.  

 

“DRINK!”  Well, that did it.  He slammed it down and prepared himself to die.  This was it.  The famous Harry Potter was about to bite the dust all because of Brittany the Voluptuous Tango Vixen.  He handed the glass absently to the waiter standing nearby and walked slowly back to the table, passing Ron in the process.  He found a chair and sat down, knowing he’d feel the full effects any second now.

 

What he hadn’t prepared himself for was the blood-curdling scream that pierced the air from across the room a few seconds later.  The crowd parted to reveal Brittany, her back to him.

 

Oh, no.  She poisoned her, too!  I’m going to be in the same boat any second!

 

Brittany’s legs seemed very swollen.  In fact, if Harry was seeing correctly, the seam on her skirt had split open in the back.  A quick glance to his own pants provided relief that his legs were still normal size.  When he raised his head, Brittany was now facing him, clutching her face and Harry drew back.

 

“Eew!”  She had quite a beard and it was growing.  Harry reached up reflexively checking his own face, but found it felt normal.  Another wail drew his attention back to see that the hair under her arms was growing at an alarming rate, now down to her elbows.

 

Between Brittany’s shrieks and the crowd’s gasps, he heard that all too familiar Weasley voice over the top.  “Oh, my!  She must have had an allergic reaction to the fruit punch!  How horrible!”

 

Another voice in the group announced her need for a healer.  All of those pretty boys who had been hanging on her every word earlier in the evening had placed them self as far away as possible, but somehow a kind soul stepped up and escorted the crying woman from the room.

 

From Harry’s vantage point he watched Ginny tip her wine glass all the way up, spin around and set the glass on an empty tray.  Next thing he knew she was making a bee-line for him and he decided to sit very still and hope that she didn’t see him.

 

Too late, she sat down beside him, crossing her legs and her arms over her chest.  Harry got the impression she was still stewing and he just sat wide-eyed and innocent looking, hoping for the best.  Ron and Hermione joined them at the table a moment later.

 

It was getting late and some of the couples were preparing to leave.  Harry knew that he should give them a proper send-off.  It would be rude to just sit there.  She still wasn’t speaking so, Harry took the initiative and broke the silence.

 

“I think I’d better say goodbye to our guests.”  He stood up, about to leave on his own when something told him to turn back.  “Ginny, will you accompany me?”

 

He held out a hand, hoping it wasn’t still trembling.  With a deep breath and a final grunt, she stood up, mumbling under her breath,  “Better not mess with my man.”  And then like someone had turned on a light bulb, her smile returned and she took his arm, appearing as the social butterfly again.

 

They began to circle the room, offering thanks, shaking hands and saying goodnight to the many guests.  The band was scheduled to play until midnight and at quarter of twelve most of the guests had left.  Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had departed just minutes earlier.  

 

Hermione and Ron were still nestled at a table, her chin resting on her hand and she listened to him while his hand ran gently over her back.

 

Some of the catering people had come out and were cleaning up.  Ginny had slipped her shoes off a bit earlier and was carrying them around by the straps.  Finally, she took a seat by the glass jar and Harry sat beside her.  She didn’t say much, but looked tired and Harry gently reached down and lifted her foot into his lap, rubbing his thumb in circles against the bottom of her foot.  Her eyes closed _._

 

_I guess she likes this_.

 

The lead musician walked over.  “Mr. Potter, I think we’ll break down now, unless you and your lovely wife would like one last dance.”

 

There it was again, that reference to a Mrs. Potter and Ginny’s eyes opened and finally addressed the man.  “I’m not his wife.”

 

Taking one glance between them, Harry interrupted.  “But, we would like one last dance, if that’s okay.”

 

“Sure.  And, I’m sorry.  I thought you said yesterday that you were…”

 

“It’s alright.  Simple misunderstanding.”

 

“So, any requests?”

 

Harry whispered something into the man’s ear as Ginny looked on curiously.  He took her hand and pulled her up from the chair.  Her feet must have really been tired for she nearly limped to the dance floor.  He didn’t even bother with his wand, just waved a hand.

 

“Harry, what did you do?”

 

“Your feet feel better don’t they?”

 

She nodded and he pulled her against him as the music started.  Once again, her head fit into the niche below his chin and they started to sway as before the words of the song beginning to fill the room and Harry sang along softly, trying to impart their meaning to her before the evening ended.

 

“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you, you’d be like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much.  Hmmm.”

 

The song continued, but by now he was so happy and relaxed, the words were just like jumbled letters in a puzzle.  At some point during the dance, Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione were on the floor with them, just the two couples swaying to the music, their last dance of the night.  The lights began to dim and soon the song ended, the band said their thanks and started to break down.

 

Ginny quickly shrunk the glass jar and handed it to him and he slid it in his pocket.  Tomorrow they would count and decide how best to use these funds.

 

“Harry, I think we’re going to go unless you need anything?” Ron asked, his arm still around Hermione.

 

“No, we’re good, right, Gin?”

 

Ginny nodded and yawned.

 

“Hey, thanks for coming, mate.  I’m glad your lips came for the auction!”

 

“Shut it.”

 

Hermione finally spoke up.  “Well, they are awfully nice lips and they did generate a lot of money.”

 

Ron just smiled, looking a bit embarrassed at the ‘nice lips’ comment.

 

“So, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah.”  Ron walked over and placed a kiss on his sister’s cheek.  “Goodnight, Sis.”

 

“Goodniiiiight!” stretched out with another yawn.

 

“You’d better take her home before she falls asleep here!”  Ron gestured toward his sister.

 

“I will.  Take Care!”

 

With a soft pop, Ron was gone.  Harry didn’t notice until about a minute later that Hermione was still standing there.

 

“Hermione?  Something wrong?”

 

“Oh, no.  Ron asked me to just wait for a minute before I apparated home.  I’m not sure what it’s all about, but…”

 

“Hmmph.”  Harry shrugged and turned back to Ginny.

 

Balance was obviously not something the body could accomplish while asleep and he had to catch her as she tipped, eyes closed, on the edge of the stage.  She was so gorgeous tonight in her flowy red dress and Harry’s mind had been totally focused for the past hour on getting a look at that lingerie for himself.  For a moment he contemplated trying to convince her to come back to his place, but he knew that would be selfish for she had worked hard getting this all together for him and was no doubt, very tired.  So, he gave his final thanks to the band and the ballroom manager and managed to get Ginny to her feet and back to the Burrow before heading home.


	7. Chapter 7 - Violets Are Blue

 

Thursday Night

 

Hermione appeared in her kitchen and quickly kicked off her shoes.  Ron and she had each agreed to go home to their own flats.  Both were quite tired and both had to be at work in the morning.  This was the logical thing to do despite their breakthrough tonight.  She didn’t want to go overboard and based on her earlier thoughts, she might just forget herself.  Why he had asked her to wait a minute, she had no idea.  She looked around and seeing nothing unusual, sighed pleasantly.

 

  _What a night!_   

 

Shuffling down the hallway, her head was swimming with all of the conversation between Ron and herself.  After knowing him for eight years, she was amazed that there were still so many things to learn.  They had talked and danced and talked some more all night long.  Well, that is, after the whole lip auction thing.  And, of course, there was that simply amazing snog session behind the curtain and Ron’s whole aggressive attitude before the party!

 She shook her head and smiled, thinking back _._

_I can’t believe I did that!_    _I hope Ginny finally took care of that brunette bimbo once and for all._

Within ten minutes, she had changed, brushed her teeth, took down her hair and was about to climb into bed when she noticed a pink box resting on her pillow.  Her eyes lit up with a smile as she sat down on the bed and lifted the box into her lap.

 

A small piece of parchment was tucked under the gold ribbon and she pulled it out and opened it.

 

  _To My Wonderful Girlfriend,_

_I hope you don’t think this too forward, but I saw it and thought you might like it._ _It’s not nearly as beautiful as you are, but it will have to do._

_Love,_

_Ron_

 

Curiosity and delight shown on her face as she pulled off the ribbon and opened the lid.  Pulling apart the tissue paper, she found a violet silk nightdress.  It had thin straps and delicate lace edging.  Hermione’s mouth fell open as she held it up.

 

“Oh!  It’s so pretty!”  She ran to the mirror, holding it against her and then promptly changed into it with incredible excitement.  Checking herself in the mirror, it was like a different girl had shown up in her flat this evening.  This girl was smiling, her hair down and not a black robe in sight, only this gorgeous blue silk lingerie!

 

  _I don’t believe Ron would actually purchase lingerie!  Even more, I don’t believe he bought this for me!_   

 

She placed the box on her chair and slid under the sheets, enjoying the satiny feeling of the fabric against her skin.  Settling into her pillow, the events of the evening kept replaying in her mind.  It was like floating on a cloud for she felt so light remembering how he touched her, kissed her and made her laugh.  How many years had they been friends?  And look how quickly things had changed.

 

Well, it wasn’t like she didn’t see it coming.  Ever since fourth year she knew he had some feelings for her beyond that of just best friend.  And, in the past year, he was always just teetering on the edge of romance.  He would hold her hand and yes, he kissed her, but then they would always separate and find themselves back in their familial friendship mode the very next moment.

 She thought back to his confession.

_“Hermione, I’m crazy about you, don’t you know that?  I know I should have said something sooner, something to let you know how I felt, but well, I just thought that you already understood.  It was like some kind of unspoken agreement between us, but now I think I made a mistake in that assumption.”_   

Thinking back to what he had said, he was right.  There was this unspoken arrangement between them and neither had been brave enough to breech the barrier and take the next step.  That is, not until tonight.

 

Just hours earlier, behind that velvet drape, the walls had crumbled.  She couldn’t remember what it had felt like to _not_ be his girlfriend.  Lying here, staring up at her ceiling, she realized how her whole outlook on life had changed in a single minute.

 

He was hers and she was his.  The deal had been made, sealed with a kiss.  An unbelievably fantastic kiss!  Those eyes, they are so blue and his strong arms felt incredible!

 

“Hmmm.”  She smiled and rolled over, glancing at the clock. 

 

_12:35am -  I wonder if he’s asleep or if he’s thinking about all of this just like me?_

 

Then her thoughts shifted to earlier when he had pushed her down onto his bed.  It was strange, but she had never really thought of him _that_ way before.  He had always just been Ron, that loveable, funny and very courageous boy.  Tonight, however, a man was lying on top of her, holding her with incredible strength, touching her, kissing her with a passion reserved for only the most intense and mature of lovers.   It was almost unnatural how thinking of that hard something under his denims, pressing against her thigh made her squeeze her legs together in want.

 

Maybe it was reading Ginny’s risqué books or maybe just the fact that she had been longing for some degree of intimacy in her life.  Either way, some of her hidden desires had truly been brought to the front tonight and she chuckled to herself that she almost had to thank Brittany for forcing it out of her.  

 

_I wonder what he looks like naked._

 

“Argh!”  She rolled over again, shifting uncomfortably, for all of these thoughts were causing a stirring in her stomach and a strange ache below that.

 

  _Hermione!  Stop thinking about it.  You’re going to work yourself up into…into…  Oh, my God.  What if he were to touch me down there? His hands are so large and…_

 

“Ahh!”  This time she bolted out of the bed.  “Hermione!  Stop this!”  She walked back over to the mirror, only able to make out a shadowy outline from the reflections of moonlight in the window.  “You aren’t ready for this.  What if all those rumors start up again?”  She thought back to six months ago when someone claimed she had slept with the boss to get a promotion.  That had been a very emotional and stressful period and she definitely didn’t want to relive it.  “What if he sees you and is totally turned off?”  

 

The two sides of Hermione seemed to be battling it out in front of that mirror.  “After all, you have a small chest and a bony arse.  Oh, God.  What if he wants to do stuff?  You don’t know anything about how to make love.  Oh, this is idiotic to think that I could…”  

 

The thought had formulated.  It was just resting at the back of her mind, waiting to be brought forward for actual consideration.    If she could just keep her mind occupied with the here and now, then it wouldn’t be able to show up.

 

“Okay, Hermione.  Look.  You two just hit things off.  If you do anything stupid to jeopardize it, you’ll be so sorry.  You’re only nineteen.  Nineteen year olds shouldn’t be contemplating this.”

 

  _Oh, no.  I just let it in._   

 

“He’s probably sound asleep.  It was a long night.  You both have to work tomorrow.”

 

She nodded to herself and walked back to the bed.  Her bottom had barely hit the mattress when she bounced right back up.  She tossed on her robe, tying it around her waist and slipped on her slippers.  Concentrating on Ron’s entry way, she disappeared with a soft pop.

 

*** 

 

After leaving the ballroom, Ron popped home and ran to grab the lingerie he had purchased that afternoon.  Looking through the various boxes until he found the one with the purple nightdress, he quickly wrote out a note and tucked it under the ribbon.

 

Arriving at her flat just seconds later, he made his way to her bedroom and placed the box on her pillow before returning to his own flat.

 

Ron had never felt so excited, so absolutely giddy in his life!  He had a girlfriend!  No, better than that, he had Hermione!  His heart felt like it could soar right through the clouds, right up to the place where his Hermione had always sat.  The thought of his angel ever coming down from the heavens and agreeing to be with a mere mortal, it was unbelievable.  How could he deserve her, after all this time?!

 

He paced the living room rug for at least ten minutes, wondering what she was doing at that moment.  What she would say when she found the box?  Would she like it?  Would she be offended?

 

His hand rubbed over his now, somewhat scratchy beginnings of a beard and he loosened his tie and whipped it off, draping it over the sofa.  His legs seemed to carry him to various locations throughout his flat, as if there was something he should be doing, but his mind couldn’t focus on the task, only on her.  The clock ticked on and Ron recognized a very sleepless night lay ahead of him.  

 

  _Maybe I should take a nice hot shower.  That should be relaxing._   

 

Then an image of Hermoine in that purple nightdress invaded his thoughts.  She was taking off the purple nightdress!  Then his mind flashed back to earlier in the evening, on his bed.  Very erotic memories filled his head: sliding his hand over her breast, the sweet taste of her mouth, the scent of her hair, the pressure of lying on top of her, holding her tightly.

 

Wearing dress trousers and not denims, provided a bit more room for growth, but right now even they were feeling constricting.  Finding himself in his bedroom, he decided to get out of the tight clothes and slipped on his pajama pants and a t-shirt.

 

Approaching his mirror, the image before him was not that alluring.  What did she see in him?  His clothes were a bit worn, his hair a messy red, tons of freckles.  He turned to the side and flexed an arm, just for a second.

 

  _I do have some muscles and I’m pretty tall._   

 

His eyes were drawn to that other thing that was being very distracting at the moment.  “Shame on you, Ron.  She’s not just some sex object.  You need to get control of yourself you perv!”  With a few quick steps, he crashed down on his bed and slid his hands behind his head.  No matter how hard he tried, the mental image of Hermione on his bed kept creeping into his thoughts, his body reacting as any normal nineteen year old male would.

 

“Dammit!”  His hand slipped into his pajama pants, grasping his now very stiff erection.  He was just about to close his eyes and allow his mind to take his body for a ride when he heard it.  It was soft and distant.

 

“Ron?”

 

The darkness filled his widened eyes, but he refused to close them.  His feet hit the floor and led him down the shadowy hall.  Only two steps later, he saw her just as he had pictured.  The heavens had sent down one of their own and she stood in his hallway, the moonlight from his bedroom window casting a glow on her long curly hair falling freely over her shoulders.  The pale light turned her robe to a near shimmering gray.

 

“Hermione?”

 

She spoke with a hesitancy that seemed impossible.  

 

“I couldn’t sleep.  I-I had to see you.”

 

Neither one of them had moved, Ron pressing his hands against the walls in the hallway for some kind of support.

 

“I was thinking of you, too.”  He smiled.

 

Even in this dim light, Ron thought he saw her blush.  The always strong, always confident Hermione looked so different.  That ever present bossy confidence had been replaced with a delicate, soft modesty.  Her hands appeared to be twisting the tie of her dressing gown around her fingers, looking about as nervous as Ron felt at the moment.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.”  Ron was about to head towards her, maybe offer to make some tea.  Knowing Hermione, she wanted to talk.  However, she interrupted him before he even took two steps.

 

She appeared to be breathing rather hard and Ron wondered if she had been running or something.  “I mean, can I come into your bedroom?”

 

  _Bloody hell.  Alright, Ron, keep it together.  Stay cool.  Don’t jump her._   

 

“S-Sure.”  

 

He stepped back against the wall and allowed her to pass.  She looked around the room and it appeared she wasn’t sure where to go or what to do.  Grabbing his wand, he lit a candle and then picked up his trousers from the end of his bed and quickly tossed them in a drawer in the wardrobe.

 

Turning back around he found her head tilted a bit, a closed-lipped smile that shone more in her eyes than anywhere.

 

“I wanted to say thanks for the gift.  It’s absolutely beautiful and I just love it.”

 

“You’re welcome.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, unsure what to do with them.  If he kept them crossed, then it was less likely he would reach out and grab her or do something stupid to disrupt the moment.  Ron was working very hard to stay in control.

“Um…I hope you don’t think it’s too…I mean that I’m being too…”

 

“Presumptuous?”

 

“Yeah.  I mean, I didn’t buy it thinking that you were going to wear it for me or anything.”  Ron was already well aware of his own nerves, but Hermione seemed particularly jittery.

 

“Really?  So, then why did you buy it?”

 

“Do I have to have a reason?  I just thought you’d like it…that it would look brilliant on you.”

 

“It’s the most beautiful and intimate thing I’ve ever had.”

 

He shifted on his feet.  “So, then, that’s good right?”

 

Hermione gave a single nod and then looked down, untying her belt.  Pulling it open, Ron got his wish finding the violet lace just skimming the tops of her breasts, the hem so short he swallowed with great difficulty observing this much leg.  She kept the outer gown wrapped around her waist, but the top slid off her shoulders, pooling around her arms.

 

“Oh w-wow,” he stuttered out.

 

It was all his lust-filled mind could build.  Those arms that had been crossed over his chest, searched for something to do.  One grabbed the edge of the nearby wardrobe, the other ran over his mouth, sure it would find some drool to wipe away as he shifted his weight again.

 

She must have thought this amusing because the grin returned with a twirl, the satin gliding over her curvaceous chest.

 

“So, you like it?”  She asked taking another step closer.

 

“Yeah.” His eyebrows lifted and eyes widened to accentuate the point.

 

Hermione’s eyes drifted away from his like she was contemplating some question, and Ron got the impression that she was somehow skeptical of his answer or unsure of something between them.  This thought alone urged him to step forward and he lifted her chin, forcing her to focus on him again.

 

Searching her eyes, he whispered what he hoped would answer her question.  “You’re beautiful, Hermione.  With or without any satin and lace.”

 

The thin silky strap on the lingerie slid down her shoulder, and Ron reached out to pull it back up, but she twitched slightly and he withdrew his hand quickly and she replaced the strap on her shoulder.  It was clear that neither was sure of what to do next.  An awkward silence filled the space around them and their eyes darted about the room, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with the possibilities that lie before them.  

 

Finally, Hermione confessed.  “I couldn’t get you out of my mind.  I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight.”

 

“Yeah?”  With hopeful anticipation, Ron took her hand.  “I was thinking about tonight, too.”

 

She pressed her lips together briefly before drawing in a breath.  “I was kind of wondering if…if maybe you would…kiss me some more like you did before?”

 

“Before as in behind the curtain or like before the party?”  To Ron these were two distinctly different kisses and undeniably he hoped she would want to continue their time from before the party.  The snog behind the curtain was incredible, but having her on his bed tonight had been pretty bloody fantastic as well and that could easily lead to other, more adventuresome activities.

 

“Well, that kiss behind the curtain was pretty hot, but I kind of enjoyed the time before the party, too.”

 

Ron’s smile nearly matched hers, for he, too, was have very enthusiastic thoughts about kissing Hermione on his bed again and what that could entail.  He considered it was best to let her decide on where and how much since his own urges had nearly got him into trouble before.

 

“Um…do you want to sit down?” he asked, looking around the room as if suddenly realizing that the bed had the only real seating space.  Her glance around the room seemed to match his deduction and she pulled her dressing gown tightly around her and moved to the bed, sitting down quite close to the edge.

 

Ron stood there for a moment, truly unsure of whether he should join her or not.  He wanted to, of course, but there was always the chance that things would get a bit out of hand like earlier tonight and he’d do something stupid and take things too far.  Then again, if he didn’t go over to her, it would look like he didn’t want to be with her and the thought of her feeling rejected was almost worse.

 

Running a hand through his fringe, he covered the few feet to his bed and sat down beside her, his hands resting on his thighs and looking straight ahead.  “So...”

 

She glanced over, gnawing her lower lip, looking like she wanted to ask something, but nerves were getting the better of her.  Ron turned to face her and some strange force of nature finally connected them, their eyes meeting and their bodies relaxing with smiles for the briefest of moments.

 

Ron had been treated to a very aggressive display earlier in the evening so he knew that Hermione had the will and the way to get what she wanted.  Why she seemed so shy now was a bit confusing, but Ron suspected it had a lot to do with the lateness of hour, her proximity to his bed and the minimal amount of clothing between them.  Ron decided that perhaps this time he would need to make the first move and so he leaned in hesitantly and kissed her.

 

At first it was soft, slow and tender, but their lips only remained apart for a fluttered second before she closed the gap and returned with her own.  Turning towards her, Ron found what he thought was a safe spot to put his hands, idly resting them on the sides of her waist.  The feel of terrycloth from her dressing gown reminded him of the silky wonders underneath and he breathed deeply through his nose as the images flooded his mind.

 

Memories from their ten minutes behind the drape returned with haste, but the here and now felt even better.  Her lips willingly parted for him and he kissed her a bit harder, feeling their fullness as his mouth explored hers.  It wasn’t weakness of mind or body, for he knew she was a strong woman, but something told him to hold her tight, that without his arms around her she would be in danger of falling.  And so both arms wrapped around her waist and she found his biceps and held on.

 

Inhaling a sharp breath, he pulled her tighter and deepened the kiss, a low growl rumbling in his throat.  That scent, it invaded his head and stirred his stomach.  Something about the way that Hermione smelled just triggered his resolve.  The awkwardness of earlier, the boyish hesitancy were all eclipsed by a very adult need to feel her, to explore her with a man’s touch.  He almost felt his height increase as he pulled her against him, his tongue enjoying her minty mouth as it did battle with hers.

 

She wretched her head back, gasping in a breath and without pause, Ron attacked her throat.  He had always wanted to know her this way, to touch all those wonderful soft places that he saw day in and day out, dreamed of, but never felt.  How many times would he glance at that neck as she read, her long hair tickling the sides.  He’d linger on the hollow of her throat and wonder it if felt as soft as he imagined.  If he could only be a strand of that glorious brown hair lying next to her warm skin, cascading over her shoulders and down against her chest.  His lips were now on a mission to discover what that wisp of hair already knew.

 

She finally spoke, but it was low and throaty.  “Ron?”

 

He answered even though his mind was purely focused on sucking her earlobe between his lips.  “Hmm?”

 

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?”

 

That caused him to return to her lips as if kissing her would answer that question beyond any doubt.  Having her in his arms, in this combination of silk and terrycloth just sliding over her skin, this was more than he could have ever wanted.  Years of want, of jealousy and prayer all converged on this moment as he sensed her fall into him.  Without planning it, without thinking of any consequences; he leaned into her and with one arm around her waist, slid her petite form up onto the bed.

 

With great care, he settled her in the center of the quilt, but kept his lips in almost constant contact with her soft flesh placing himself along her side.  The tie holding her gown together loosened, exposing the purple silk underneath.

 

Internally, he felt like slapping or pinching himself back to reality, for this couldn’t be Hermione acting this way.  Even while kissing her and feeling her return the same passion toward him, he still had a hard time convincing himself that his long time friend, the all-knowing, proper Hermione Granger was wearing lingerie and lying in his bed with him.

 

“Ron?”

 

Ron knew what the question was.  He had heard her utter it not more than a minute earlier and he had hoped his actions would speak for him.  That was Ron’s whole modis operandi for the past four years, allowing his actions to speak for him.  In fact, Ron had taken this method to a whole new level.  He had become a master at transmitting his feelings through action.  Every touch, every gesture, each time he made a joke, stood up for her or pushed her out of danger’s way, it was meant to tell her of the love that lived within him.

 

In those same four years, Ron had also learned, sometimes painfully, that Hermione was a literal creature.  If she didn’t find the thought in print, then she would search for the spoken version.  It would be unfair to discount Ron’s actions totally, for he recognized that many of his gestures did hold value with her.  She told him many times.  However, the act, no matter how determined and forceful, would never appear as total fact, total truth, unless she heard it or read it.

 

Years of battling with himself over what to say, his oratory inability always deferring the spoken word - it was coming to an end.  Right now.  If four years of silent practice wasn’t good enough, then Ron was doomed and he knew it.  His mind and lips offered a silent surrender and finally set to task in startling eloquence that which they had denied him for years.

 

“Hermione, I’ll tell you anything you want to hear if you will only stay with me.”

 

After a brief silence, she spoke.

 

“That’s rather impertinent.”  Her expression never changed.

 

Ron couldn’t help the warmth that pulsed through him just hearing her say that.  It was proof positive that the beautiful woman lying beneath him was truly his brilliant, encyclopedic darling.

 

She squinted at him and turned her head, the brown, curls shifting on the quilt below, but he simply continued, his thoughts flowing freely now.

 

“In all the years that I’ve known you, _all_ of them, my thoughts have always included you.  Back in fourth year, just thinking about you filled my days _and_ my nights.  You’ve been the first thing I think of in the morning and the object of my dreams when I sleep.    Everything I’ve done has centered on you, on keeping you happy and healthy and hoping you would accept me and be proud of me.”

 

“Really?”  Her features had softened, a glow about her as she listened.

 

“Hermione, we spent eight months together on that horcrux hunt, eight very close months, sharing a tent or a patch of grass.  Sometimes you lay so close to me that I could have just inched out a finger and touched you.   Do you have any idea how difficult it was not to run my hands through your hair or to simply touch your arm as you slept?  I watched you night after lonely night, praying that you would be there the next night again.  I spent eight months in silent agony, being so close to you and yet unable to be with you.”

 

A single tear had now escaped her eye.  “We both knew that Harry had to come first.”

 

“Yes, we did.  That is why I never said anything, but I hoped that you would at least notice what I did, the way I acted with you and realize what I wasn’t able to say.  So, I have to admit that telling you all this is really scary and exciting at the same time.”  He took two quick breaths for they were coming in rapid succession now.

 

“I do love you, Hermione and I’ll do anything, if you’ll just be with me.”

 

The tears were now departing her eyes with increasing speed and her arms pulled him closer.

 

“I love you, too, Ron and I am proud of you.”

 

With a comforting gentleness, he snaked his hands underneath her, holding her tight.  “Please don’t cry, Hermione.  I can’t stand it when you cry.”

 

Unable to move from his firm embrace, she merely whispered in his ear.  “You dolt.  These are happy tears.”

 

An overpowering relief left Ron weak and he sighed out a, “Thank God.”  He lifted his head, resting his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

 

Through a small sniff, she continued.  “So, now that we’re an official couple and I know that you love me and you know that I love you, and I’m wearing this beautiful blue nightie…”

 

Loosening up his grip, he rested on his elbows.  “The nightie is _violet_ according to the lady in the store, just like your jumper.”  He grinned.

 

“Yes, I know.  Violets are blue.”

 

“I thought Violets were purple?”  Now the back of his hand was caressing her cheek.

 

With an amusing grin and a subtle nod, she spoke slowly.  “Well, bluish purple, but you know the old saying ‘Roses are Red, Violets are Blue’ so I guess I just think of it as blue.”  A hint of humor shone in her voice.

 

Ron quickly lost all manner of any humor, his eyes drinking in her loveliness, his hand moving into her hair.  His lids felt heavy with desire, sleep far from his mind as he began to navigate the underside of her jaw with his kisses.  Her softness was beyond compare and she made another equally soft sound from deep in her throat.  It hummed against his cheek as he found a niche under her ear and turned his head, nudging his nose against her to make her move for him.  

 

Perhaps it was common in the thoughts of a teenage boy, but Ron expected, based on the two encounters earlier in the week that he would get farther in his explorations of Hermione’s softness this go round.  Ron found that after airing his feelings and hearing her confirm hers, his mind was moving into more dangerous territory.  The fact that she had come to him, she had asked to enter his room and wearing next to nothing – it all screamed ‘big time snogging session’ to him.  Hopefully more.

 

Being that Ron was a virgin at nineteen sent a very strong message about his devotion to this one girl, his desire to wait and be with her and her alone.  And, he knew she was in the same boat, still chaste, still untouched in so many ways.  Ways of which Ron wanted to be the first to explore.  

 

His concentration broke as ten light fingers found the sides of his torso and started to walk their way down to the edge of his shirt.  Ron’s focus had been so set on his actions towards her, that feeling her reciprocate was a total shock to his system.  Any thoughts of his own plans were completely abandoned to be replaced by the fact that Hermione’s hands were now slipping underneath his t-shirt.  He couldn’t help but tense his stomach muscles as she trickled her touch over them and his sides.

 

A strange tingling chill washed over him, like ice water on his scalp that began to warm and then burn as it reached his spine.  With closed eyes he allowed her erotic touch to invade his skin, and an unplanned question escaped his lips in a whisper.

 

“Hermione, will you sleep with me tonight?”

 

Ron’s own ears tingled upon hearing those words and he expected that Hermione was feeling the same way.  Thoughts drifting back to those nights under the stars when she would rest her weary body so close to his.  She always lied down near him, much closer than she did to Harry.  If he could just pull her close, hold her all night long against him, he would be a happy man.

 

Her body seemed to go rigid beneath him, the soft willingness gone.  The sounds that had filled the room, soft breathing, almost inaudible sighs, all of them became still and Ron opened his eyes to determine the cause.  One look and he knew something had changed.

 

“Did I say something wrong?”

 

“Isn’t that a pretty big step for us to take right now?”  She told him rather matter-of-fact.

 

“Why?  We’ve slept only inches apart for nearly eight months in a row.”

 

The stern gaze gave way to an adoring look that told Ron he was surely missing some point, but he trusted her to educate him.  She always did.

 

“You want to _sleep_ with me?”

 

He nodded, still confused, his body propped up on his elbows.

 

“You do realize that your question could be construed to mean something else?”

 

A moment of thought and Ron’s blush indicated that he had figured it out.

  
“Oh.  Oh!  You thought I meant….that I want to…” he nodded his head in rhythm with the remaining words in his sentence, a bit too risqué to actually verbalize.

 

“Have sex?”  She said it for him.

 

“Yeah.  No, I don’t.  I mean, YES, I do…want to have…you know…sometime.  I didn’t mean I wanted you to…you know…with me tonight.”

 

  _Shut up Ron!  You know you want to do it tonight, if she’ll let you!_   

 

“But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”  Even though Ron felt very flushed, he was relieved to see the same embarrassment on her face at speaking on this topic.

 

“Yeah.”  He paused, the question begging to be asked.  “Have you?”

 

  _Please say yes._   

 

Just then, like some signal of an end to their conversation, the last light from the candle flickered out, forcing them to rely on their other senses.   The tension he had felt before dissipated, her body once again becoming pliant and giving to his weight, and her hands found the bare skin of his back as she whispered.  “Kiss me, Ron.  Kiss me like you did before.”

 

The darkness made no difference and he found her mouth with ease.  It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust, but soon he could make out her features in the dim light filtering in from the night sky.  Her skin seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, just reinforcing his angelic regard for her.

 

Soon Ron discovered a sense of comfort in her divine lips; he could relax and just enjoy the mint of her mouth and her honeyed neck for hours, if that’s what it called for.  In fact, his heavy heartbeat finally started to slow as he relaxed into their kisses.  

 

They lie there for quite a while, each returning the same affection to the other, kissing, whispering and exchanging gentle touches.  Neither felt the least bit sleepy.  Ron was moderately aroused, but reminded himself to behave and treat her like the lady that she was.  It was clear that his earlier aggression had made her uncomfortable, something that had tortured his thoughts all evening.  He hadn’t sat through all those speeches with his parents for nothing.  They raised him and his brothers to be respectful of women.  It must have worked because every time his hands started to drift, searching out her soft breasts, the voice of one parent or the other would fill his head and he’d halt his forward progress.

 

Still, he allowed himself to enjoy her own wanderings, those soft fingers twisting in his hair, sliding over his cheeks and gripping the top hem of his t-shirt.  His lips were actually starting to feel swollen from all the activity when she pushed him back, ever so subtly.

 

“Ron, I need to use the loo.”

 

“Oh, um…sure.”  He rolled to the side and she slid across the quilt, the hem of her nightdress and gown hiking up around her hips as she did.  Ron’s eyes were fixed on that hem as she stood up and he caught just a glimpse of her firm thighs underneath.

 

With her gone for a moment, Ron’s head crashed back onto the pillow as his thoughts reviewed every soft moment they had just shared and what he hoped was still to come.  Checking the clock, he realized the exhausted state that both of them would be in tomorrow, but lack of actual sleep seemed an inconsequential side-effect of sharing a bed with Hermione, something he could definitely do without.

 

Jumping off the bed, he pulled the quilt down and fluffed the pillows, eager to settle in with her for a night of big time snuggling.  Truly, he just had sleeping on his mind before when he asked her, but now that she had brought up the alternative, it filled his head with many other scenarios.  He hoped her firm, round arse would push up against him as he rolled in behind her and he could dream of what lay underneath that nightdress, holding her warmth against him for the night.  Of course, she hadn’t actually agreed to stay and it was quite possible that the night would end with him alone in his bed, just as in the thousands of nights before.  However, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

 

Satisfied that the bed looked neat and comfortable, he lay back down toward the center, trying to look casual and relaxed, his groin telling him he felt anything but.  He heard the flush and the light extinguished as the door opened.  She paused by the chair, adjusting the dressing gown’s belt around her waist as she approached him.

 

The disappointment of having Hermione tighten clothing instead of removing it faded when she crawled up onto the bed next to him.

 

“Tired?” he asked.

 

Ron mentally chided himself for asking, for he had no desire to sleep.  Not yet.  

 

She shook her head.  The pitter-patter in his heart suddenly picked up speed as she crept toward him her right leg slipping over his own, her robe splitting in the center as she rested a good portion of her body on him.  His first impression was that she weighed next to nothing, but soon he came to realize the wondrous sight before him.  

 

Her eyes were soft, just like her voice.  “So, where were we?”

 

This time it was Hermione taking the initiative, her nose nudging his head to the side as she trailed her lips over his neck.  The tips of her brown curls tickled his jaw as she placed soft, open mouthed kisses on him.  Ron’s eyes drifted shut, her hands roaming into his hair, caressing his scalp and yet somehow holding him exactly where she wanted.  Some very naughty images flooded his brain, visions of her on top of him doing things that were only found in those magazines the twins hid from his mother.  These same images had been fodder for his numerous dreams, both night and day.  His body’s natural reaction could not be stopped and he felt a mounting pressure in his pajama pants as he neither spoke nor moved.

 

Under normal circumstances, such a growing example of his arousal would have mortified him, but there was something just so right about this moment, a sort of serenity that filled him.  His desires would become apparent to her any moment, only his pajama pants and her gown separating his crotch from the side of her pelvis.  His only wish was to watch her face for this recognition, to see for himself what it was like to look into the eyes of someone who wanted you and for them to know you felt the same.  Some part of him wanted her to know that beyond pronouncements of love and his deep-seated devotion, there was a longing, a craving for her – that his body responded to hers in a very physical way.  

 

With the subtlest of moves, Hermione’s knee bent, drawing her thigh up into contact with his groin. Even through the flannel, he could sense the bare, creamy thigh resting between his and he couldn’t deny himself any longer, his fingers inching toward the hem of her dressing gown.  Her thoughts must have matched his, or read his, somehow needing that same sensation on her fingertips because her hand left his head and trickled down to the bottom of his t-shirt and pushed it up.  Just enough to explore his stomach.  Ron gasped, but his muscles clenched and flattened as her hand glided over him.

 

Every tender touch, each completely safe caress on his abs sent a spike of pleasure straight down, deep within him and he might as well be naked for his pajama pants could no longer camouflage his nearly complete erection.  Even while being lathered in kisses, his concentration centered on the placement of her knee and on how he could turn or she could shift to put her more pressure on his aching crotch.  

 

In this ghostly atmosphere, it was like a symphony of hearts playing a yearning melody, both on a slow crescendo, building to the all important pinnacle.  Ron was fighting the temptation to pull her completely on top of him as his fingertips found the hem of her gown and her womanly hips pressed against his side.  Despite this being very new, Ron got a clear message that she was experiencing the same desires as he.  Why else did she rock and press herself into him.  Maybe she was signaling him that she was ready to move on.  Ron took a chance on his hypothesis and pulled her lower half to rest on top of him.

 

Her attentions to his neck ceased and she pulled her head back so that their eyes met again.  She stared at him soft and warm, her focus fixed on him and her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

 

“Is this alright?” he asked, her full body’s weight resting on him.  “I mean…are you comfortable?”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t think you are,” she offered with a slight grin.  It was clear what she meant and Ron couldn’t help the pink flush infusing the tips of his ears.

 

Talking with the boys about a stiff one was always an easy task.  They shared common experiences and could joke about the masculinity of it, but the thought of discussing this with a girl was a bit embarrassing.  Talking to Hermione about it was more on the lines of eternal mortification.  And yet, watching her realize his affections and desires for her was intriguing and damn sexy feeling.  There was no getting around this, it was pressed between them. Based on Ron’s current state of mind, his youth and the friction that she offered by simply shifting her weight – they were going to have to address this soon.

 

“Er…um…yeah…well…”

 

“It’s alright, Ron.  I mean, I’ve never felt a boy’s…I mean, a man’s…um…erection before.  I’m not sure what it all means, but I think it means that you really fancy me.  So, I guess it’s a compliment in a way.”

 

“I guess it sort of is…a compliment I mean.  Your body is so soft and you smell so good and then you show up wearing that lingerie and well, a bloke can’t help the way his body responds to stuff like that.”

 

“So, what happens after it gets like this?  I mean…I know what happens eventually, but since we’re not going to actually shag, is it alright if we keep kissing?”

 

  _‘Not going to actually shag’ – damn!  Well, at least she made that clear so I don’t go do something stupid._   

 

“Yeah, k-kissing is fine.”  Ron knew darn well that her continued pressure on him could very well send him reeling out of control, but he wasn’t about to have her move.  Even with the increasing ache below, he’d rather keep them just as they were.

 

Hermione appeared a bit relieved and smiled fuller, licking her lips again as if preparing herself for round two.  “Good, because I really like kissing you.”

 

As if to affirm that statement, she lowered her mouth back to his and this time Ron felt her breasts mash against his chest.  She stayed on his lips only for a moment before tilting her head underneath his chin, forcing him to turn his head up and to the side.  The numerous sensations that she was sending through his body became so intense that his eyes fell shut as he breathed out an audible moan.  Her kisses were slow and wet, deep and soft, moving inch by inch over his neck.

 

Then to add to his torture, she began to release soft little murmurs of delight and her body moved over his again.  He was sure that it wasn’t intentional on her part, but the portion of her body that lay in direct contact with his lower regions kept pressing and rubbing as she continued to kiss him.

 

Ron’s thoughts easily segued from Hermione in lingerie to her removing lingerie and from her kissing him to her straddling him.  Each quasi innocent thought exploded into a million other much more erotic ones as Ron’s hormones sent him on a ride through his fantasies.  Soon, the combination of her kisses, her sounds and smells and that fantastic friction below brought him to the brink.

 

He was hanging by a string, his body craving release when her tongue darted into his ear and she spoke a single, whispered word.  “Ron.”

 

Gripping her tightly, the string snapped and he raised his hips into her as the orgasmic pressure rushed up his thighs and burst through, spilling his seed into his boxers.  He grunted and jerked as his body pulsed and Hermione quickly pulled back.  His grip relaxed as the last of it washed over him and he felt her roll off of him.  Still in post-orgasmic bliss, he struggled to focus on what this meant to her and opened his eyes to check her expression.

 

She sat on her knees beside him, looking just a bit panicked and bewildered.  Coming in his pants like that wasn’t Ron’s idea of maturity.  In fact, it demonstrated a definite lack of control on his part, but she just felt so good that he couldn’t stop himself.  Now, it appeared, he had some explaining to do.

 

“Ron, did you just…”

 

“I’m sorry, Hermione.  You just felt so wonderful and well…”

 

“Oh, wow.  I didn’t know that you were that worked up.”

 

Ron reached over, grasping his wand from the bedside table and quickly performed a Scourgify on his soaked boxers.  Hoping to quickly move past his embarrassment, he tried to redirect the conversation back onto her.  “Well, what do you expect?  You’re a sexy woman, Hermione.  I’ve been wanting you for ages.”

 

That seemed to do the trick, for Hermione’s bewildered look turned to a pleasant flush as the corners of her mouth inched up.  She really _was_ beautiful and now that Ron’s mind could focus on something besides his raging hormones, he sat up to face her.

 

The glow on her soft cheeks called to him and he brushed the back of his hand over face, his fingertips finding an errant lock of hair and massaging the softness over his thumb.  Her eyes were relaxed and soft, yet they kept searching his, somehow expecting him to say something.  Ron had a million and one thoughts.  There were more words of love, of her beauty and sexuality, but he was certain they were too heavy to be voiced at this point in their relationship.  Ron had known for a long time the deep undying affection he held for this woman, but he wasn’t sure that she held the same sentiments for him.  Once again, Ron fell back to his customary show her, don’t tell her method.

 

Breaking eye contact, his gaze flicked down to the tie on her dressing gown and he licked his lips as he looked back to her face, wondering if he dared try and open it. He decided to start slowly and he brushed both hands inside the collar of her gown, holding her neck as he leaned in for another of her paradisiacal kisses.  She put Lavender to shame, not that he was comparing, but kissing Hermione was by far the best thing in his young life.

 

Ron’s left hand dropped toward her belt, his fingers just resting on the knot for a moment before he tugged gently, trying to loosen it.  His other hand smoothed over her shoulder, carefully sweeping the terry cloth down her arm, the tiny strap moving with it.  Her hands rested on his legs as he placed a series of soft, tender kisses on her mouth.  Somehow he couldn’t help but smile more with each successive meeting of their lips and when he sensed her smiling back, he managed to pull the gown down on both sides.  His hands trailed over the insides of her arms, his thumbs finally brushing the swell of her breasts.

 

  _She’s not objecting.  Maybe I can touch her.  Oh, Merlin, I want to touch her.  Go slow, Ron._   

 

Trying to stay in tune with her lips, Ron’s thumbs dusted over her rib cage, the satin shifting against her skin.  She was smooth and warm and more arousing than even Ron had anticipated.  He didn’t recall them leaving his legs, but her hands landed on top of his, her fingers linking with his, taking control of his touch.

 

“Ron.”  Her breathing seemed to pick up, almost labored, no longer the relaxed sounds of before.  Ron would have thought it was only due to the situation, but he picked up on the slightest hint of worry etched in her forehead as he released her lips and examined her face.  

 

He whispered.  “What’s wrong, angel?”

 

She must have liked his endearment, for she offered a small smile before returning to a more contemplative look.  “I know it’s silly, but…” a swallow interrupted her confession.  “I’m…”

 

He waited but she didn’t speak.  “What?”  She remained silent, but her eyes told him she wanted to speak.  “You can tell me, Hermione.  It’s alright.  It’s just me, your best friend, Ron.  You can always talk to me about anything and you know I’ll still feel the same about you.”

 

“I just can’t bear the thought of you being disappointed.”  

 

“Hermione, I could never be disappointed about you. You are beyond brilliant in my opinion.  You’re kind and intelligent and you have an absolutely fantastic body.”

 

“Even if I’m kind of small?”  Her brow had really pushed into those lovely eyes, showing great concern and she pulled her focus from him as if unable to live through the look on his face when he answered.

 

“Is that what you’re worried about?”  It all became clear in an instant and Ron knew this would be an easy recovery job, for to him, she was perfect in every way.  “Oh, Hermione, you don’t have to be worried about that.  I think you’re just perfect.  I’m not looking for some girl with huge breasts.  You look lovely.  You’re just the right size, everything makes a stunning package.  You wouldn’t look right if you were all out there like that.”

 

“But, I know you enjoyed how I looked tonight and well, I just need you to know that it wasn’t all me.  There was some padding involved.  I don’t want you to finally feel me and then realize I’m not up to your expectations.”

 

“Believe me, Hermione, when it comes to your body, I will never be disappointed.  Do you know how much I’ve dreamed of touching you there?  You totally turn me on and that’s when I’m asleep for Merlin’s sake!  I’ll prove it to you.”

 

Ron was more than willing to support his proclamation.  His stomach stirred as he glided over the smooth skin covering her ribs and reached the bottom edge of her supple bosom.  His face retained an encouraging smile all the while and Ron sensed her trust in him.  Her hands accompanied his as he cupped her lovely, soft breasts, directing his thumbs to brush her already hard points through the satin as her head fell back and she released a wonderfully resonating deep breath.

 

“See?  You’re beautiful, Hermione.”

 

He responded almost instantly to the soft sounds she was making as his large hands tenderly kneaded her velvety breasts.  Indeed, they were small enough that his hands surrounded them, but Ron was so mesmerized by the sights and sounds before him that size was of little consequence.  His lovely girl was definitely enjoying his attentions and he allowed his middle finger to slip under the top edge of her nightie.  With the straps already down her arms, he need only hook a finger and pull and she would be revealed to him.

 

The temptation was glaring him in the eye, those beautiful deep brown eyes, yet even without her speaking, he knew to stop.  The moment his hand brushed her bared skin, her back stiffened and the lids that had been closed in relaxation popped open to watch him.  They told him he had reached his limit for the night and that should he try and proceed, she would have to tell him to stop.  He thought back to her first condition from earlier in the night, ‘you will stop when I tell you to stop.’  Ron sincerely didn’t want her to have to ever say that.  He wanted to be able to recognize when the moment was right without her having to say one way or the other, and at this moment, her body language told him to slow down.

 

Switching immediately into a light-hearted tone, Ron turned his hands as if adjusting the wireless volume on her chest.  “Perfect.”  He withdrew his hands and smiled at her, making sure she understood his reference to her lovely breasts.  He bounced on the mattress, fluffing a couple of pillows at the headboard and sinking back into them as she watched.  Finally, he reached out an arm, offering to hold her.  “How about we just snuggle up for a while.”

 

That seemed to please her, for she readjusted her dressing gown and climbed easily into his arms, tucking her head onto his shoulder.  Even though he couldn’t make contact with any flesh, he rubbed her back and arm lovingly and they lay in silence for several minutes before she spoke.

 

“Ron, can I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course, love.”  Somehow it seemed appropriate and even necessary to interject his feelings for her in every sentence.

 

“Is it true that you never tried to do this with me before because I’m too proper and reserved?” she asked, recalling Ginny’s statement from earlier in the week.

 

“Um…”  Ron hesitated for the teensiest of seconds and a warning thought eclipsed his mind on whether this was a bad topic to enter into to.  “A little bit.”  However, almost immediately, he recognized the stronger need to tell her the absolute truth.  She deserved it, especially from him.  “I mean, you seemed very unapproachable when it came to this sexual stuff.  I wanted you to know…I still want you to know, that I respect you and I won’t do anything that contradicts your high standards.  I want to keep you in my life.”

 

“High standards?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You make it sound like I’m all stuffy and old.  I feel like Umbridge when you say that.”

 

Ron almost winced at her mention of their former professor and most-hated nemesis.

 

“Hermione, I can guarantee you that I do not think you are stuffy or old, and you certainly are nothing like Umbridge, but you are perceived that way amongst others.”  

 

“You know, perception isn’t everything.  Just because I wear black robes and act all serious doesn’t mean I’m not a girl and that I don’t have feelings and desires like any other girl.”

 

“I know that Hermione.  Really, I do.  But the moment just never felt right to test it.  If I had been more forward and stuff…well, what if you were turned off by it?  I’d never forgive myself.  Not until this past week.  Suddenly, you came out of your shell and I finally thought I could get through to the beautiful, sexy woman that was hidden underneath all those layers of black wool.”  Even while voicing it, he recognized his own sarcasm.

 

“You really don’t like those robes, do you?”

 

He couldn’t see her face, but he could sense a smile creeping across her face.  Tipping his chin down, he tried to get a look at her.

 

“I much prefer the violet nightie.”

 

“Really?  Well, if you buy them for me, I promise I’ll wear them...occasionally, but only for you.  Otherwise, I usually sleep in long, black, wool robes.”  Her playful tone shocked Ron to action.

 

The arm that was draped over her side found a very ticklish ribcage and went to work as she giggled and screamed in delight, trying to wriggle out of his arms as he rolled them from side to side on the bed.  After such serious conversation, hearing her laugh was better than a box full of chocolate frogs.  It was sweet and full of abandon.  Ron discovered that a ticklish Hermione was like fighting with a slippery rabbit and she had nearly made an escape from the bed.  Ron grabbed her rather forcefully and tossed her onto the pillow, climbing on top of her with wild delight and a renewed sense of passion.

 

The temperature in the room seemed to increase exponentially as he held her.  His hands slid into hers, their fingers lacing and he removed his restrictive weight from her hips and unwrapped his legs from hers, instead slipping to her side and restoring calm.

 

“So, you never answered _my_ question?”  Hermione cocked her head as if thinking back to what she had missed. He just looked at her raised eyebrows, a teasing look on his face and waited for her to reply.

 

“Don’t remember?  Tsk, tsk.  Hermione Granger, I’m shocked.”

 

“Ronald, stop it.”  She slapped him weakly on the arm.

 

As if to reinforce the importance of it, he leaned in and kissed her again, taking time to enjoy the feel of her body molding into his.  After several minutes, when he felt she was sufficiently swooning from his mouth-to-mouth intoxication, he returned to whisper in her ear again.

 

“Will you stay and sleep with me?”

 

It was equally soft and immediate, her eyes still closed.  “Yes, I’ll _sleep_ with you, if you promise we won’t go any further.”  

 

“I promise.”

 

With that emphasis, she made it clear that she wasn’t prepared for anything beyond sleep, but Ron had every intention of casually exploring her body as it lie beside him.  He knew his boundaries, but was prepared to enjoy each minute of her warmth.  Just as he was about to start stroking her arm, she released a huge yawn, stretching her incredibly lithe and supple body below him like a cat and rolled a bit to her side.

 

Ron felt his heart and libido sink, but then the idea of finally curling up with her clicked and he reached down to find the blankets and pulled them over her.  Slipping in behind her, his arm wrapped across her stomach and pulled her bottom into the spoon of his legs.  She made a slight wiggle, her back making contact with his chest and the immediate heat between them felt soothing.

 

Not sure whether she was totally awake, Ron whispered, feeling a need to say what was in his heart, even if he didn’t get a response.

 

“I love you, Hermione.”

 

He closed his eyes, pushing his cheek into the pillow.

 


	8. Chapter 8 - Roses Are Red

 

Friday

 

When Harry’s eyes opened Friday morning, he lay very still and started to take a mental inventory of himself.  Did anything feel out of place?  He wiggled his toes and fingers, then finally held up an arm, turning it front to back to get a good look.

 

“Looks okay,” he spoke to himself.

 

Still there was just the slightest degree of concern that Ginny’s anger from the previous night may still have seeped into that fruit punch.  So when he finally looked in the mirror and saw his usual self staring back, he let out a deep breath in relief.

 

Ginny Weasley’s temper rivaled even the protective streaks of her brothers.  Each were equally dangerous and potentially harmful to the person who dared provoke them.  It was actually one of her endearing qualities, at least to Harry.  Her personality was the perfect compliment to him.  Both strong willed and protective, they used each other to keep the other in check.  Harry chuckled to himself as he went about his morning business picturing her from the night before.  If he searched deep within his heart, he’d know that Ginny would never hurt him, at least not permanently and not with the intention of doing actual harm.  Still, he wouldn’t put it past her to teach him a stinging lesson, if he needed it – all in the name of love, of course.

 

Dressing for work, his thoughts focused on his plans for the coming evening.  If all went well, he’d be an engaged man this time tomorrow.  The corners of his mouth curled up just thinking about it.  He actually liked the idea of escaping bachelorhood.  As soon as he finished brushing his teeth, he checked one last time on the security and location of that little velvet black box.

 

It was still quite early.  He didn’t have to be to work for about another twenty minutes so, he decided to drop in at the Burrow and see if Ginny was up.  After all, with such important decisions to be made that evening, it wouldn’t do well to have her in a bad mood.

 

Bearing his brightest smile, he popped in at the Burrow and marched into the kitchen, ready to greet at least one of the Weasley women.  Harry lucked out and got both of them, the older rushing around, brewing something in her cauldron as bacon and eggs fried on the stove.  His other favorite red-haired lady was slumped over the table, her head resting on her arms, something akin to a red bird’s nest sticking up in every direction on her head.

 

Despite his current state of cheerfulness, he didn’t want to speak too loudly or make her jump so he walked over to Mrs. Weasley first and placed a kiss on her cheek just to announce his presence.

 

“Oh, Harry.  Good morning, dear.”

 

He turned, now aware that Ginny knew of his presence and placed a gentle hand on her back, giving her a soft rub as he sat down next to her.

 

“Good morning, sunshine.”  He spoke softly, maintaining his smile.

 

The resulting blue concoction from Mrs. Weasley’s cauldron appeared in a glass in front of Ginny.

 

“Ginny, drink up dear and you’ll feel much better.”

 

Without raising her head, Harry still heard her muffled words.

 

“You would have to come over when I look and feel my absolute worst.”

 

Harry knew he was taking his life into his own hands, but decided to tease her just a little.

 

“Oh, I’ve seen you when you’ve looked much worse.”  The smile never left his face.

 

Her weary head rose off of the table, turning to squint at him.  Truly, she looked completely lovely to him, even with her wild hair and sleepy expression, but he let out a mock scream just the same.

 

“Ack!  You’re right!”  Considering she didn’t even slap him, but just glared disapprovingly, Harry assumed she must be either really hung over or really tired.  Either way, he wanted her to feel her best for their big night so he lifted the glass for her.

 

“How come you look so peppy, Mr. Tango?”  She took the glass and chugged it back, like an old barkeep after a long night of tending.

 

“Well, I didn’t drink all the wine that you did, just some refreshing fruit punch.”

 

The potion must have had a bit of a kick, for she shook her head violently for a brief second and her cheeks took on a very rosy hue.

 

“You liked my punch, hmm?”

 

“Loved it, but I don’t think it went down too well on my dance partner.”

 

Mrs. Weasley, who up until then had been busily cleaning the kitchen, piped in, reminding Harry that they weren’t alone.

 

“Ginny!  You did that?”  She was obviously referring to the sudden transformation of Brittany the tango queen into a stiletto heeled Yeti.

 

“Well, she shouldn’t be hanging all over Harry like that!”

 

“True.  That was just an appalling display of manners.”  Mrs. Weasley shook her head and went back to her cleaning.

 

A combination of factors led Harry to try and change the subject.  He glanced at the clock to give a bit of impetus to his next move and jumped up from the bench.

 

“Look at the time!  I’ve got to get to work.  I just wanted to make sure we were all straight on tonight’s dinner plans.  We have reservations for seven so, I’ll pick you up here about ten of, alright?”

 

She was looking much better now, her eyes bright with her usual twinkle.

 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”  Mrs. Weasley slipped a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Ginny.  “Thanks, Mum.”

 

“You’ll find out tonight.  Just dress nice.  We have a lot to discuss.  I thought you could give me a little report on how our little pet project is coming along?”

 

“Oh, so this is a business dinner?”  She paused, a forkful of eggs resting on the tines.

 

“Well, we can mix some business with pleasure, can’t we?”

 

Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley was the consummate eaves-dropper and despite her busy appearance was listening eagerly to every word.  So, her chuckle wasn’t a surprise to Harry, but Ginny seemed to question it.

 

“What’s so funny, Mum?”

 

She waved the kitchen towel in the air.  “Oh, nothing, nothing.  Just thinking of something your father said this morning.”  Harry knew, even with her back to them, his potential future mother-in-law was hiding a grin.

 

“I have some questions and I’m afraid you’re the only one who can answer them.  But, I tell you what…after dinner, we can tango a bit ourselves, alright?”

 

Harry placed a wooden spoon from the table in his teeth and started to side step across the floor in his best tango imitation.   Pulling the spoon free, he added.  “I’ll even bring the rose.”  He pulled Mrs. Weasley around and dipped her back.

 

“Harry!”  She swatted him with the same kitchen towel, but her face had taken on a very pink glow as he set her upright.  Ginny finally released a full-out, heart-warming laugh that filled Harry with joy, his mission accomplished.   

 

At this point, he realized that he was indeed going to be late so, he walked over and leaned in to place a kiss on Ginny’s forehead before beginning his exit.

 

“I’ll see you tonight, love.  Have a good day.”

 

“Wait!”  

 

He turned back, but she approached him and pushed him into the next room making it clear she wanted some privacy for them.  Harry kept backing up until she glanced over her shoulder and seemed satisfied they had created enough distance.  Any doubts he might have had were erased the instant she wrapped her arms around his waist.

 

“I just wanted to say thank you for the lovely red lingerie.  I have to confess that I was amazed that you would actually purchase something like that.”

 

“Well, it was a bit nerve-wracking.  I guess it fit alright?”

 

“It was perfect and that was something else…”  She cocked her head with a grin.  “How did you know my size?”

 

His hand slipped between them, cupping her breast with a single, soft squeeze.  The sudden glow in her face meant she understood his methods and she blinked slowly with a deep exhale before speaking again.  “Harry, if you keep doing that you’re going to be very late for work.”

 

He slipped his mouth down to her ear as he kneaded her one last time.  “I hope you’ll model it for me later.”  With a departing kiss, he stepped back to Apparate, offering one last endearment.  “Love you.”

 

Harry winked and with a soft pop, he was gone.

 

*** 

 

The clock ticked by, and it was already an hour into her work day before Hermione snapped out of her current daydream.  She had been sitting at her desk, holding a quill, the ink dripping onto her blank parchment until it finally dried.  Not only was the night before the most exciting thing she had ever experienced, this morning’s events were nothing to sneeze at either.

 

  _Hermione’s internal clock told her it was time to wake up._ _Six o’clock_ _had rolled around again, but as her eyes fluttered open to the unusual sunlight pouring in the window, it took a moment for her to get her bearings.  The heat behind her and the soft snoring gave it away.  She was in Ron’s bed – with Ron!  Once more, his hand was draped over her ribcage, his fingertips just dusting her left breast._

_The shock of finding herself here was overweighed by extreme happiness.  She turned slowly under the sheet to collect the supporting evidence of her new love life and there he was, his soft red lashes hiding his blue eyes, his lips just parted snoring in a sort of low rumble.  The contentment of just lying there and watching him sleep was almost too tempting and she had to force herself to slip out of the bed and get her morning shower._

_After a quick drying charm on her hair, she tossed her violet nightie and dressing gown on again for it was all she had to wear, and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.  As suspected, Ron had a big slab of bacon and she started frying some of it up.  True to his nature, the scent of food called to him and he wandered into the kitchen about ten minutes later._

_The fact that he arrived shirtless sent Hermione’s heart into a soft spring.  His pajama pants hung very low on his hips, magnifying the definition in his sculpted abs and waist as he released a big yawn.  She knew Ron wasn’t a morning person.  However, she got the sneaking suspicion that her current state of dress or perhaps it should be called undress, was enough to wake him up for she felt a pair of strong arms circle her waist a second later._

_His voice was a bit rough, along with his twenty year-old beard as it bristled against her neck._

_“Good morning, beautiful.”_

_She couldn’t help but smile and inch away from his tickling whiskers with a small giggle.  Hearing him call her beautiful was one of the most sensational feelings of her life.  If she could just hear that from him once a day she surmised her life would be wonderful._

_He pulled her gently toward him.  “You know, I could get used to this.  My nearly naked girlfriend cooking breakfast.  This is fucking sexy.”_

_“Ronald.”_ _She meant to scold him for his language, but it would have been hypocritical based on her own opinion that seeing him like this in the morning was indeed ‘fucking sexy.’_

_Just then she learned something else about the ‘morning’ Ron – he was a bit randy.  The frying pan nearly hit the floor when she felt his hands run up her legs.  Hermione lost all muscle tone in her neck and her head fell back against him._

_He must have noticed her wavering hand on the cookware for he grabbed the frying pan and moved it off the burner.  Somewhere between cooking breakfast and getting felt up, she found herself sitting on the kitchen counter, also his doing.  Another second later and he was having her neck for breakfast and Hermione couldn’t give a damn about the bacon._

“Hermione.  Hermione?  Hello!”  

 

A hand was waving in front of her and the quill dropped out of her hand in surprise.  

 

“What?”  Several blinks later and she looked up at the source of the voice.

 

“You okay?  You look a bit tired.  Long night?”

 

It was Evan Walters standing before her, his usual toothy grin blinding her with whiteness.

 

“Oh, um….well, the party and all.  Aren’t you tired?”

 

“Me?  Nah.  My uncle said I’m the equivalent of a social butterfly, you know, always planning the next party.”

 

“What can I do for you today, Evan?”  Finally escaping her bliss-filled daydream, she had regained her professional composure, replacing the quill in the ink pot and adjusting a stack of papers on her desk.

 

“I have a proposition for you.”  His hip was now resting on the edge of her desk, his hand on top of a file folder as he stared directly at her.

 

“Go on.”  With an intentional tug, the file folder slid out from under his hand and he was forced to move a bit.  Just when she thought he would finally distance himself, he instead pulled up a chair next to her.

 

“I think I’ve found the new model for our Ministry ad campaign.”

 

“That’s great, Evan.  Who?”  

 

“You.”

 

There were many arguments she could have spewed forth, each one more logical than the previous, regarding why she was not the girl for the job.  And, she was ready to offer each, but Evan blazed on in endless monologue.

 

“I have the perfect slogan, ‘Today’s Ministry, What a Transformation!”  He was drawing his hands apart in the air before them like displaying a banner.  “We take your picture, but this is the new and improved Hermione Granger.  I mean, last night you were a real knock-out!  That dress was….well, it probably gave half the men in that room a stiff one, if you know what I mean.  You showed real spunk last night fighting with that bimbo for a kiss from that red-haired bloke.  So, anyway, we take your picture, but in a killer dress, do your hair and all that stuff, of course you’d be smiling, and we do captions.  Captions like ‘ready to take on the world’ or ‘new, fresh and inviting.’”

 

Hermione was in awe at the man’s ability to talk and thoroughly annoy her and do it all without actually breathing!  Now he was grabbing her jaw and pushing her head to the side checking out her profile.  She knew that sooner or later, he’d have to inhale, but for now she just sat and listened.  That is until he overstepped his bounds.

 

“Did you know you have a great profile?  We’ll get you a nice push-up bra…” his hands about to demonstrate on her.

 

“Evan!”  Her scream was accompanied by a swift slap across his face, strong enough to tip him and his chair over.

 

With a speed that even astounded her, Hermione’s wand was in hand and she was in her instinctive defense posture, something ingrained after years of training with Harry and the D.A.  And guess who should walk in the door, but the leader of said training.

 

Hermione noticed Harry’s body language change the moment he saw the scene before him.  Evan, rubbing his jaw, was finding his feet when he saw Harry in the doorway.

 

“Oh, shite!”  His eyes flickered between her and Harry.  “I’m sorry.  That was way out of line!”

 

She recognized his apology was not so much directed to her, but was the means of reprieve from an even worse fate at the hands of Harry Potter.  It was well known that Harry had reserves of incredible magical power that bested even the most seasoned Auror.  And based on Harry’s present glare, Hermione knew he would use it if he felt she were threatened.

 

Evan continued, this time to Hermione. “Really, I mean it, Hermione.”

 

Hermione had to wonder if he truly meant it or was just scared shiteless.  

 

Now he turned his pleading directly to Harry.  “I was just demonstrating a photographic technique.”

 

Evan’s hands pleaded for leniency and Hermione at least gave him credit for not drawing his wand on Harry for that would have been quite detrimental to his health.

 

Hermione’s posture relaxed for she knew with Harry there, Evan was no longer a threat and in fact, far more worried about the man who finally spoke up.

 

“Hermione, what do you want me to do to him?”  His tone was flat serious, but she recognized immediately the playfulness behind it.  True, Evan had been a bit forward.  However, she understood how he might have been caught up in the moment, for it had happened to her before as well.  Not wanting anyone to be hurt, she decided to help Evan out of his jam.

 

“Harry, I think Evan just got a little carried away with the excitement of the Ministry’s new ad campaign.”

 

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to try and grab your…” He gestured, cupping his hands in a re-enactment. 

 

Evan just had to go and put his foot in his mouth and so Hermione quickly intervened, stepping over to help him to his feet.

 

“It’s alright, Harry.  I’m fine.  He just got wrapped up in the moment.”  Years of knowing and living with the ‘Boy Who Kicked Voldemort’s Arse’ gave her the ability to read him like a clock and she knew he had backed off, but Evan didn’t.

 

“Yeah, yeah.  It’s just this great idea I got and I was sharing it with Hermione.”

 

Hermione had to bite her cheek to keep the smile off her face as Harry stepped up to Evan who still looked wide-eyed with terror, even under his weak smile.

 

Harry moved closer and spoke in an even tone.  “Evan, this is my sister.  I’m very protective of my sister so you would be advised to mind your manners and keep your hands to yourself.”

 

“Absolutely!  No problem there at all.  I understand completely.”  Evan looked like he was about to wet himself and quickly turned to Hermione trying to get his sentence out with all haste.

 

“So, Hermione.  Could we do the photoshoot this afternoon?  Say five o’clock?  I’ll contact you a bit later with details.”  He was almost out the door as she nodded her agreement.

 

Harry gave her a curious look.  “Photoshoot?”

 

“Looks like I’ve been asked to be the ‘poster girl’ again.”

 

Harry picked up the toppled chair, swinging it around and straddling it as Hermione took her own seat.

 

“You don’t look all that thrilled about it.”

 

“No, it’s fine.  I guess I’m sort of used to it, but I’m not quite accustomed to the idea of me being a symbol of flirtatious frivolity and all that.”

 

Harry was resting his chin on the tops of his hands that were crossed on the chair back.

 

“I think you’d be a great role model!  You are a fantastic worker, bright, creative and you’re also beautiful and fun and…”

 

“Harry!  You’re embarrassing me.”  Indeed, her cheeks reflected her comment.

 

“What?  Well, you are!”

 

Hermione thought that if she didn’t get back to work and stop daydreaming and chit-chatting, her whole image of dedicated employee might just go down the drain.  Besides, it got her mind off of photo shoots and Evan’s grabby hands.  So, she shuffled a few papers, regaining her business composure.

 

“So, why the visit?”

 

“Oh, just needed to ask for your help with something I’m planning for tonight.”

 

*** 

 

Ron had been flitting, yes flitting, about the office the entire morning, displaying a cheerfulness that made the latest lottery winner look depressed.  He was very close to cracking this burglary case and had just returned from a meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt who, once again, praised him for his work on another recent arrest.

 

Of course, he had other things on his mind and they all involved violet satin, creamy thighs and a kitchen counter.  Therefore, when a voice called out a greeting from his door, he answered with an intimate tone that would make an inmate at Azkaban blush.

 

“Please, come in!”  

 

Unfortunately for him, that greeting was bestowed on a certain long-legged clingy pebble in Ron’s shoe:  Brittany.

 

“Hello, Ronald.”

 

The smile fell from his face as he spun around to view her posing like a Victoria’s Secret model showing off the latest item in their catalog.  He frowned, however, noticing that her usual low cut blouse had been replaced with a high turtle-neck sweater and an ankle length skirt with black boots.

 

“Oh, hello…um…Brittany.”

 

Ron had witnessed her hairy transformation the night before and was actually surprised to see her looking somewhat normal.  Well, at least from the chin up.  However, he suspected the concealing attire had everything to do with his sister’s potion.  His first instinct was to ask if she was recovered, but his genuine distaste for her put a stop to even the most innocent and polite of inquiries.  She casually pulled out a familiar piece of parchment and walked slowly, leg over long leg toward him.

 

“Ronald, I just wanted to apologize for my distasteful display last night.  I hope you don’t think less of me for it.  At the very least Mr. Potter’s cause gained as a result.”  She batted her eyes guiltlessly.

 

“You were a bit pushy.”

 

“Yes, well, I guess I’m used to getting my man.  I do have to say that I received your note and I was just crushed.” Her voice turned to a pseudo baby-talk tone that annoyed Ron to no end and she placed her palm on his chest.  “I thought we had agreed that you would escort us ladies to the club on Saturday?”

 

Ron wasn’t about to back away or display any weakness so, he slid his hands in his pockets and stood firm, even when she dragged the edge of the parchment down his chest.  This girl truly didn’t comprehend the term ‘personal space’ for she invaded it with practiced ease, her long dark lashes blinking slowly as she licked her bright red lips.  It was amazing that she hadn’t learned her lesson from the night before, but here she was again, aggressive as ever. 

 

Ron was being forced to learn quickly how to deal with this girl, staying cool, calm and collected.

 

“Brittany, I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, but I’m in a committed relationship right now and I just can’t go with you.  I’m sure you can understand.”

 

“Really.  Don’t tell me that girl who outbid me managed to steal you away?”  Her raised eyebrows and innocently curious look didn’t fool Ron.  He knew she was just fishing for information.  Still, he was so proud of the fact that he and Hermione were official, it just burst out of him before he could really think.

 

“She didn’t steal me.  Hermione and I are dating.”

 

“Hm.”  Ron didn’t think it was possible for her to get any closer, but she somehow managed, her lips now just a breath away from his and Ron noticed a tiny patch of thick hair just behind her ear.  “Well, if things don’t work out?”  She arched a manicured eyebrow.  “Call me.”

 

There was this pregnant pause for Ron couldn’t move.  One, it would give her a thrill to see his resolve crumble and two, if he did, it was quite possible he’d end up with red lipstick on his lips.  The only problem with this plan was that, despite Ron’s mental restraint and commitment to his girlfriend, testosterone had a mind of its own and his groin had an unfortunate influx of growth.

 

Brittany was recognizably practiced in the art of feminine philandery, for she slid a casual hand over his rapidly swelling member.  Possibly due to reflexes alone, he grabbed her wrist and lifted it away from his body.

 

“Ah, ah, ah.  That’s not yours to touch.”

 

He would congratulate himself later for his quick action, for he hadn’t blushed once in their entire conversation and had truly turned the tables on her.

 

“Pity.”  She stepped back and walked down the hallway, a moment later engaging in a conversation with Rhonda whose desk was just around the corner.

 

When Ron was sure she was out of sight, he closed his eyes and pictured Umbridge in a bikini.  That did the trick and he attempted to refocus on his work.

 

However, one knock later and a head full of black hair peeked around the corner.

 

“Hey mate!  Got a minute?”

 

“Sure.”  Ron was pleased to see him, anxious to tell him about his night with Hermione.  Not in detail, of course, but he had been bursting at the seams all morning with excitement and Harry was truly the only person he could talk to about it.

 

“Are you free tonight?”

 

“Um…well, I guess.  Why?”  He tipped back in his chair.

 

“I need a waiter.”

 

“A what?”

 

“I don’t want your Mum serving the food tonight in the garden and I was wondering if you might sort of dress the part and play the waiter for my proposal dinner with Ginny.”

 

“Blimey, you’re really going to do this, huh?  You’re really going to be my brother.”

 

“Well, I hope so.”  Harry rubbed his head nervously.

 

“Are you kidding?!  It will be great.  No worries and sure, I’ll be glad to help.”

 

“Thanks.  I knew I could count on you, mate.  I’ll take care of everything.  Just show up at the Burrow tonight around six thirty, okay.  Oh, yeah, also are you coming with us to the club on Saturday night?  I hope we’ll have some celebrating to do and Ginny tells me she has some surprise cooked up.”

 

“If Hermione is going, then I will,” he said with a smirk.

 

“Well after last night’s display, I should think you two will be inseparable.”  Harry offered a soft punch to Ron’s shoulder and sat down seemingly ready for a longer conversation.

 

“You have no idea.”  It slipped out only due to Ron’s insane desire to lead Harry into his desired topic of discussion.  He shook his head, blowing out a low whistle, his eyes wide with inspired happiness.

 

Harry’s eyes appeared to match his own for a moment.

 

“Ron, what have you been doing with my sister?”

 

“She’s not your sister.”  He rolled his eyes and then got up and looked out into the adjoining room to ensure their privacy before closing the door to his office.

 

“I consider her my sister and if you’ve been doing the same things with her that I’ve been doing with your sister, then I want to know.”

 

“Yuck, Harry.  I don’t want to even picture you doing those kinds of things with my baby sister so, knock it off!”  Ron slapped Harry on the back of the head as he walked by and retook his seat.

 

“What are you going to do someday when we start having kids?  You do know that having sex will be involved in that process?”

 

“Yeah, well, that’ll be different.  You’ll be married and there’s that whole need to procreate thing.”

 

“So, should I expect some little bushy, red-headed whiz kids to show up at Uncle Harry’s house in the future?”

 

Well, that did it.  Ron’s face became more scarlett than humanly possible.  Even his hair felt on fire.  He had never thought of him and Hermione beyond their current level of intimacy, certainly not married with children!  But, now that Harry had brought it up, he had to admit that it made his heart feel good to picture them together in that way.

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.  I’m not quite up to the proposing stage, but I did make it to first base and then some.”

 

“No!  Our sweet, modest little Hermione let you feel her up?”

 

“Yeah and she felt me up, too!  Even better, though, she slept with me last night.”

 

There, it was out.  It was like he had been keeping a secret to himself and saying it out loud somehow made it even more true.  He swung his legs up onto the corner of his desk and crossed them to show his macho attitude.  Truly, he couldn’t help it for he was rolling in a bed of male satisfaction today.

 

“Well, it took both of you long enough.  You’ve only been in love with her for four years!”  There was a slight pause and then Harry launched back in.  “So, how was it?  I mean, no details…just you know.”

 

“Brilliant.  Unbelievable.  She is so warm and soft and I discovered that she really likes violet lingerie.  So, thanks for the trip to the store yesterday.”

 

“Hey, you’re welcome.  Looks like that was a hit for both of our ladies.”  Harry got up and opened the door.  “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work.  So, tonight and then tomorrow at the club, right?”

 

“Okay.  See you then.”

 

*** 

 

Brittany had just finished her visit with Rhonda and was about to leave when she heard two male voices, one she recognized as Ron Weasley, the second she discovered a moment later belonged to Harry Potter when he walked past Rhonda’s desk on his way out.

 

So, they were going to the club after all?  And, Ron was probably going to bring along his little black robed, bushy haired, boring girlfriend.  Brittany was not accustomed to getting turned down when it came to the attractions of the opposite sex and she had her heart set on a little roll in the sheets with Ronald Weasley.  On top of that, she was supremely pissed off at Harry Potter’s girlfriend who she suspected had spiked her punch.

 

She said her goodbyes to Rhonda and moved smoothly out of the office.  There were plans to be made.

 

*** 

 

Ron and Hermione had arranged to meet in the Ministry Canteen for lunch and that is where Harry found them when he stopped in for a quick sandwich.  They were sitting directly opposite each other, and appeared deep in conversation.  Ron waved Harry over and he slid into a chair next to his best mate, tossing his lunch bag on the table.

 

The first thing he noticed was that it seemed awfully quiet and he glanced between his two friends.  Ron seemed to be immersed in his lunch and Hermione was poking her fork through something that looked like Chicken salad.  He felt like a true third wheel.

 

“Am I interrupting?”

 

Hermione was, of course, to first to counter.  “No Harry, you’re not interrupting.”

 

“Yeah, we were just talking about Hermione’s kitchen counters.”  It appeared he swallowed down something the size of a tennis ball and Harry wasn’t sure it was all food.  Looking back at Hermione she appeared quite flushed and was noticeably hiding a smile.

 

“Oh, you two!  Get a room.”  Then Harry got an idea, thinking back to their meeting at the pub.  “Wait, Hermione, aren’t you due back at the convent sometime soon?”  His mocking tone was very sing-songy.

 

Harry expected to get a smart remark back from Ron and indeed got a scowl, but he was shocked when Hermione stepped in instead, her eyes blinking up to look at Ron.

 

“Oh, I think Ron has ruined any prospects I might have had for the convent.”

 

This time is was Ron’s ears that tipped pink and he slammed back his glass of pumpkin juice.

 

Harry thought they had suffered enough and decided to move the conversation into less dangerous territory as he pulled out a sandwich.

 

“Soooooo…Hermione, did you tell Ron about the ad campaign?”

 

“Yeah she did.  I think it’s great if that’s what she wants.  She also told me about that twat Walters.  You can bet I’m going to be stopping in this afternoon.  If he gets any ideas about trying to steal my girl, he’s going to be in a world of hurt.”

 

Hermione smiled even wider.  “Ron, he’s not going to steal me.”

 

“Just as long as you make it to the Burrow by six thirty.”  Harry piped in, between chews, reminding him of his important function this evening.

 

“What’s going on at the Burrow?”  It was true that no one had told Hermione about Harry’s plans, not because he didn’t want her to know, but being as how Hermione and Ginny were so close, he didn’t want anything to slip.

 

“Oh, Ginny and I are having dinner tonight.”  Harry nodded knowing he was being truthful, just not revealing everything.

 

“So, then, why does Ron need to be there?”

 

Harry looked to Ron.  An entire conversation took place in that one glance.  Harry knew that he could trust Hermione, but Ron’s eyes said it all.  Hermione would be hurt if she found out that he had confided in Ron and not her.

 

“Ron’s going to be the waiter.  You see I’m taking Ginny to dinner in the garden at the Burrow and Mrs. Weasley is cooking all of Gin’s favorite dishes.  Then, if I can find the courage and my mouth doesn’t dry up, I’m going to propose.”

 

“Oh!!”  Hermione squealed and jumped up from her chair, hugging Harry around the neck.  She kissed him on the cheek three times.  “I’m so happy for you!”  Then her arms wrapped around him again.

 

“Hermione.  Don’t strangle the poor bloke.  He won’t be able to talk tonight.”

 

She pulled back and started wiping her eyes.  Harry thought at first that he had done or said something to hurt her and reached out to touch her arm.

 

“I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to cry.”  She apologized even though her eyes sparkled with happiness.

 

Ron conjured a hanky and handed it to her, glancing at Harry with that ‘girls!’ expression.

 

“It’s just that I’ve known you for so long, you’re like my family.  Ginny’s been in love with you for so long!”

 

“Yeah, well, she hasn’t said yes, yet.”

 

It was apparent that both of the men were feeling a bit uncomfortable, Harry spying the room for onlookers.  Ron looked like he wasn’t sure if his status as official boyfriend meant he should be doing something for her at the moment, finally reaching out to take her hand.

 

Once again, Harry broke the moment.  “So, Hermione, I need to know where I can order some roses.”

 

It was like night and day, the tears stopped and her face grew bright.  “Oh, I know this wonderful florist.  Is it okay if it’s Muggle?  He truly has beautiful displays.”

 

“Muggle is fine.  I just need a lot.  I suppose I could transfigure some, but I want the real ones as well.”

 

She whipped out a piece of parchment and started to scribble.  “Here’s the name and address.”  After handing him the information, she did one more quick wipe of her cheek and then leaned over the table to capture Ron’s lips in a kiss that just bordered on too long.  Harry finally had to look away and clear his throat, just hearing them break apart.  

 

“I have to get back.  Good luck, Harry.”  Hermione picked up her parchment, kissed Harry on the cheek and took off down the hall.

 

When Harry turned back to his lunch, Ron had this dumbfounded look on his face, his mouth still open, eyes fixed forward.  Harry just watched, his brows raised in wonder over this new thing between his two best friends.

 

“I love when she does that…”  Ron sort of drifted off in his own thoughts and Harry finally took a bite out of his apple.

 

*** 

 

The afternoon called Ron out into the field again.  He was really close to solving the Notting Hill incident, but he also made sure to keep an eye on the time.  Luckily, in his supervisory role, he was able to delegate many tasks and get back to the office in plenty of time.  Ron wasn’t a slouch, he worked hard.  This position had been earned, not given to him, even with his famous name and history.  However, that same history had also merited the respect and understanding of his co-workers and superiors.  If Ron needed time off, he generally got it without too much fuss.  In fact, he pretty much set his own hours, keeping within reason.

 

The photo shoot was slated to begin at five in one of the large Ministry meeting rooms.  Evan had arranged for a photographer, some new backdrops and a change of wardrobe for Hermione.  Ron arrived about two minutes after five, but remained standing in the darkened back corner of the auditorium-like room.

 

Evan looked to be in his element, directing Hermione and the photographer on the vision he had for this advert.  Opting to stay unobtrusive, Ron remained quiet and just observed.  After all, his reason for being there was two fold.  Technically, five o’clock was closing time and so this photo shoot was actually taking place after hours.  Ministry rules dictated that an Auror or member of the department be present for all after-hour activities.

 

If anyone asked, Ron was simply fulfilling that role.  Only he and Harry knew of his ulterior motives that revolved around a certain girl and the fact that Evan had a problem with grabby hands.  

 

Ron actually prided himself for the protectiveness that he felt toward her.  It was natural, inbred, nurtured, even encouraged by his family.  Not so much toward Hermione, but in general.  As a very young boy, Ron constantly watched and listened as his father and brothers looked after Ginny.  It became instinctive for one of them to always know of her whereabouts and so when Ron headed off to Hogwarts without her, the ramifications were like those of some unfulfilled contract.

 

By the time Ron had reached the age of thirteen, his oldest brother had sat him down for a chat.  Ron knew when Bill used that term, chat, it was something important and on this particular night, he explained more fully the reason for the constant watch on his sister.  As a pure-blood witch, Ginny existed as a rare and valuable commodity.  Those males of pure-blood descent with dogmatic views on the wizarding race would go to great lengths to acquire a same blood spouse.  With age Ron gained a greater understanding of the politics involved and also of the fact his sister was technically of marriageable age.

 

As the closest of all the siblings, he experienced almost immediate relief when Harry confided his desires to be with Ginny.  Even beyond his personal feelings for his best mate and sister, it was undeniable that she would always be safe with Harry around.  

 

After playing the role of champion for so many years, the actions towards his other friends were acutely habitual.  Many times Ron found himself acting as sentinel on Hermione’s behalf.  She tolerated his actions to a certain point, but she had made it clear that she could take care of herself.  So, Ron had backed off.  This was no easy fete, but with great diligence, a new strategy emerged, combining his strengths and needs into a more covert operation.

 

This had gone on for years, Ron always watching over her, but with a winning subtlety.  That is, until this week.  After their breakthrough behind the drapes and the subsequent increase in intimacy, Ron had dropped the veil and had no issues exuding protectiveness over his fetching girlfriend.

 

Within about ten minutes, Hermione had changed clothes, a screen had been raised, a stool brought out and the photographer appeared prepped and ready.  Hermione appeared to be enjoying herself as the photographer and Evan directed her into various poses and positions.  He smiled watching her shed the conservative layer she had worn for so long.  Her pink satin blouse and soft curls just screamed youth and beauty.  More than once she shot him a glance, just enough for him to know that she had seen him.  He wasn’t sure if this made her more comfortable, but he knew it did for him.

 

Evan must have learned his lesson from Harry that morning, for he was acting the perfect gentleman.  The photographer tilted her chin a bit to the side, pressed her shoulder back, all seemingly professional moves that offered no objection, until he released one more button on her blouse with an ease that even shocked Ron.

 

Hermione’s first reaction was to look down and clutch the front of her garment, working to return the button to its slot.  However, when the photographer returned and began to press his point and try to pull the garment off her shoulder, Ron didn’t miss the fact that she glanced at him, transmitting instant unease.

 

Ron was only nineteen, quite young and still mindful of his elders, but the fact that this photographer bested him in years by about ten didn’t stop him from clearing his voice in a rather loud and obvious manner.  He used his six foot two inch height and all two hundred ten pounds to his advantage, stepping out of the shadows and releasing a loud whistle, garnering everyone’s attention.

 

Evan obviously hadn’t discovered his presence.  “Excuse me, but this is a closed session….Oh, Mr. Weasley.  I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.  We’re always happy to have extra security after hours.”

 

*** 

 

Hermione’s heart slowed just a bit as Ron made his presence known.  This was twice in one day that some idiot had assumed her soft blouse was an open invitation to see or feel more.  Part of her just wanted to go back to the black robes if this was the way she would be treated.  However, she did feel very pretty wearing the pink silk and had actually been enjoying herself up until that moment.

 

He hadn’t made a sound, but Hermione knew the instant Ron entered the room.  He had a dominating presence that seemed to exude energy, something she always sensed.  Still, she appreciated the fact that he was watching from afar.  It would just feel too odd to do this with him glaring at Evan and the photographer.  And he would glare.  He seemed to respect her abilities.  In fact, she had bested him on several occasions in their dueling sessions with the D.A. so, she knew they thought her capable.  Even when she felt threatened, Hermione never lost confidence in her ability to handle things herself.

 

Lately, however, it was if she were watching herself in some Muggle B-movie.  The women always needed rescuing from the strong, handsome leading man.  The romance behind it filled a need within her, a need to be taken care of, even rescued…on occasion.  It brought back those warm feelings of being held by Ron, his strong arms encircling her, sheltering her from harm.  

 

The photographer had been quite charming and seemed very professional until he began to voice his opinion that they needed more sex appeal and offered compliments on her lovely complexion and sinewy form.  Ron’s whistle prompted him to step back, giving her a chance to button up.  Now he seemed genuinely disgruntled by the interruption, huffing and attempting to get back on track.  As he approached her again, ignoring Ron’s signal, she slid off the stool and retreated several steps.

 

“Oi, love, let’s finish this up the proper way.”

 

“Excuse me.”  Ron’s voiced bellowed from the back of the room and he moved several paces closer.  “May I have a word with you?”

 

The photographer gave Evan a look that clearly stated his displeasure and it appeared he wanted Evan to speak to the man, gesturing toward the back of the room.  Hermione noticed that he never made visual contact with Ron himself, instead rolling his eyes in disgust and attempting to grab her arm, obviously wanting her back on her photographic perch.

 

Hermione yanked her arm back just as Evan cleared his throat, apparently attempting to intervene. 

 

“He wants to speak with you and I think it best you comply.”

 

Hermione glanced over and saw that Ron was crooking his finger, gesturing for the photographer to join him.  Again, his reaction was that of annoyance as he marched toward Ron, his camera still in hand.  Internally, Hermione was already repeating ‘hold your temper,’ for she recognized Ron’s body language as a definite warning sign.

 

He was shorter than Ron, but didn’t seem intimidated as he approached.  He stood tall in front of her uniformed boyfriend who began speaking, but she couldn’t hear the conversation.  Only seconds later, Ron had an arm around the man’s shoulders, turning his back to Hermione as their discussion continued.

 

She shot a knowing glance at Evan who smiled faintly as if transmitting his understanding of the man’s predicament.  Even with their backs towards her, Hermione instantly recognized a change in the photographer.  His shoulders had slumped to the point that his height was now a true deficit and he suddenly turned and walked back toward her, looking a bit pale.

 

“Um…I’ve just got to check my camera and then we’ll…continue.”  He made for his satchel just as she felt Ron’s hand slide around her waist.  However, he didn’t address her, instead speaking to Evan.

 

“I explained a few things to your nice photographer and I trust that you will make sure he finishes this little picture session while keeping his hands off her, right?”

 

“Absolutely, Mr. Weasley.  You can count on me.”  He flashed that unnaturally white smile again.

 

“Good.”  He turned back to Hermione.  “I have to get home soon.  You’ll be alright here?”

 

Hermione grabbed his robes and pulled him away from prying ears.  

 

“What did you say to him?”

 

“Just gave him a gentle warning.  Nothing serious.”  A quick smile and Hermione lost all desire to find out more, just basking in the look of love he was sending in her direction.

 

“Why don’t you come by the flat later and tell me how it goes with Harry and Ginny?”

 

“I’d love to.”  He leaned in for a quick, but gentle kiss and turned to head up the ramp.

 

A second later, the door opened and his assistant Rhonda strode in, stopping Ron near the exit.  They appeared to be all business, Ron nodding and heading out the door and Hermione returned to the stool, ready to move on.  The photographer appeared rather stiff, but soon got back in the groove and was talking her through various shots with practiced ease.

 

She almost didn’t notice Rhonda had joined them, seating herself in the third row of chairs.  The smile on Hermione’s face fell like a brick when she caught Brittany the willie chaser sitting one chair over.  Luckily, the camera had just taken its last photo and the photographer thanked her.

 

Hermione’s wish was to get out of the room quickly, but with a certain degree of decorum.  First she had to change and stepped back to the dressing area Evan had set up.  The question of where to put her apparel popped into her head and she turned around to ask Evan before changing.  However, just as she was about to step out into the room, she caught the leggy brunette whispering to Evan and she withdrew to hide behind the corner.

 

“Your note said it was important?” Evan spoke softly.

 

“I just wanted to warn you that Hermione Granger might not be the right girl for your advert.”

 

“Really?  And why is that?”

 

“Well, I don’t like to spread rumors, but the word is that the only reason she got this far in her job…”  He nodded for her to continue and she leaned in a bit closer.  “…she’s pretty willing, if you know what I mean.  If she really wants something, she’ll go to great lengths to get it.  Half of the men in the Ministry have been quite friendly and they love to talk.”

 

Hermione’s mouth flew open in disgust, but she remained silent and hidden.

 

“I thought that her and Weasley were an item.”  Evan asked.

 

“He’s just her flavor of the month, but she’ll dump him as soon as it’s convenient.  You should come down to the club tomorrow night.  You can see for yourself.  She’ll make an absolute arse of herself, she always does.  I can guarantee, you’ll change your mind on the direction of this campaign.  Hermione Granger is not the girl you seek.  Trust me.  Just come to the club.  I’ll show you a really good time.”

 

Hermione felt nauseous as this Yeti impersonator spewed forth one vicious lie after another.  She wasn’t sure what this wicked girl was planning, but Hermione became even more determined to do things differently on Saturday night and finally put her in her place.  Some dance practice was in order and a bit of reading.  She returned to the dressing room, changed quickly and without any more delay, stepped firmly out from behind the wall, grabbing her cloak and offered a dulcet farewell.

 

“Goodnight, Evan.  Sleep well.”  One slow blink and her focus met Brittany’s but her expression remained the same and left the room, heading to the Apparition point.  Brittany was going to get hers and soon!

 

*** 

 

Five o’clock arrived and Harry Apparated to the garden at the Burrow.  It was a beautiful clear night, although quite cool.  The autumn days were still relatively warm, but the nights were nearly ready to usher in winter’s chill.  Harry approached the back of the house carefully, just in case Mrs. Weasley had experienced any problems with getting Ginny out of the house.  Peeking in the kitchen door, he was greeted by a smiling, plump face that waved him in.

 

“Harry!  Oh, come in, dear.  It’s alright.  She’s gone, but we have to work fast.”

 

“Is Ron here yet?”

 

“No.  Is he expected?”

 

“I asked him to play the part of the waiter, but I told him he didn’t have to come until later.”

 

Mrs. Weasley didn’t respond but just smiled even wider and rushed over to wrap her arms around Harry, releasing little squeaking noises.  Stepping back she cupped his chin and then offered a gentle slap on the cheek before she turned back around to the contents of several pots on the stove.

 

Harry couldn’t help but grin as a thought flashed through his mind.  _She’s going to be my mother-in-law.  I hope she doesn’t squeeze my cheeks like that when I’m forty._

 

“Well, I’m going to get started on the garden.  I’ll be back soon.  If Ron shows up, here’s his costume.”  Harry laid the tuxedo-like robes across a chair and proceeded out the back door.

 

He had a specific spot in mind and made his way down the small gravel path he had walked so many times before.  The Weasleys might be poor when it came to furnishings, but they were rich in real estate.  Their land spread out for acres, including a small creek that drained into a pond.  Beyond it lay several beautiful fields, lots of tall, robust trees that seemed to have an ancient history and, in the spring and summer months, tons of foliage and flowers that all grew without tending.

 

Reaching the white gate at the back of their yard, he continued down the path, around the bend of the huge oak tree where he and many Weasleys had picnicked before.  Just beyond the tree was a small glade, surrounded by hedges that were still green, even with the approaching cold.

 

That was exactly the location he had in mind and he went to work transforming this space into the ultimate outdoor garden.  Ron arrived about thirty minutes later and Harry asked him to help pick up the flowers he had ordered.  So, they both popped out to the florist that Hermione had recommended, having to arrive in the nearby alley to stay out of view.

 

After several sneaky trips in and out of the store, Harry had managed to pick up the flowers, deliver them to Ron who Apparated back and forth, dropping them off in the garden.  By six thirty, Harry felt he had matters well in hand and sent Ron on to change with instructions on the night’s activities.

 

Mrs. Weasley had come through as expected, having made Ginny’s favorite meal along with a scrumptious looking bowl of strawberries and chocolate sauce and a bottle of wine.  The food was all under warming spells and was hidden away from view, the wine chilling in a bucket.

 

Everything was set by twenty of seven and Harry popped out to quickly freshen up.

 

*** 

 

Ginny arrived home at ten of seven, looking rather exasperated that her mother had sent her on this foolish errand so soon before her date with Harry.  She had dressed early and only needed to finish her hair and add some jewelry, still she hated feeling rushed.

 

After dropping off the groceries that her mother insisted she had to have that night and were only available at this very unique Muggle store, Ginny nearly ran up the stairs to her room and began a ten minute session of hair, make-up and breathing exercises.

 

At about five of seven, she heard noises from downstairs and assuming it was her dinner date, headed down the stairs.  As expected, her darling green-eyed boyfriend was all smiles waiting for her in the parlour.  

 

“My, you are looking handsome this evening!”  She complimented reaching the floor.

 

Harry was in his trademark green, something Ginny adored.  She had told him time and time again how the color brought out his eyes and was her very favorite.  His neat button-down shirt appeared to be made of silk and she couldn’t help run her hand down his chest, testing the fabric and offering her own intimate welcome.  

 

“Thanks.  You look smashing as well.”

 

He leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips just as Mr. Weasley came into the room.

 

“Ah!  I see you are about ready to leave.  Well, have a wonderful time children.”

 

“Anxious to get us out of the house, father?”

 

Indeed, Mr. Weasley had an excited, almost expectant look on his face and Ginny considered that perhaps he was planning a little alone time with her Mum that night.

 

“Just don’t want you to be late.  I’m going to sit a bit and read, settle in for the evening.”

 

Mr. Weasley stepped over to his favorite chair and picked up a book.  Harry offered an arm to her.

 

“So, are you ready?”

 

She hooked her arm around his.  “Now are you going to tell me where we’re heading?”

 

“Nope.  Just close your eyes and I’ll Apparate us there.  No peaking!”

 

Ginny did as asked, a smile gracing her face the entire time and a second later she felt that familiar tug around her navel and then a blast of much cooler air.  She actually had to grip his arm just a bit tighter as they arrived as she wobbled on her heels without her vision to help balance.

 

“Can I look now?”

 

“One more minute.  Keep them closed.”  Harry led her by the arm.  She felt the slightly uneven ground beneath her feet and knew they were still outdoors.  However, a moment later, the temperature increased dramatically.  Her first thoughts were that they had entered a building, but the sounds were not those of a cosmopolitan area or a structure, it was still very outdoorsy.  After a brief walk, Harry stopped and grabbed her arms to turn her in a specific direction.  Then she felt him step behind her, his hands landing on her waist.

 

“Alright, now you can look.”

 

The sight before her was breathtaking and her mouth fell open almost immediately.  Surely there had never been a garden with this many roses in it before.  They were everywhere.  Mostly red, but some clusters of pinks and whites.  The smell was intoxicatingly wonderful and she turned her head to scan the area.  Just to her left was a small clearing with a round table, covered in white linens with two chairs, each with velvet burgundy cushions and a gold filigree design.

 

The table itself was set with beautiful china, crystal goblets, red tapers and another low bouquet of roses.  She was forced to bite her lip as she took in the rest of the glade.  It took a moment for her to realize her surroundings, only when she saw the oak tree did a hand fly up to her mouth in recognition of her own back yard.  The tree and all the hedges were covered in small fairly lights, made all the more lovely by the sound of soft music that wafted over the air.

 

“Oh, Harry.”  Even with the temperature mimicking a balmy night in June, she still felt a chill rush over her with an involuntary shake.

 

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

 

“Yes.  It’s just so lovely, I actually got a chill.”  She turned to face him, his hands still on her waist.  “You did all this?  For me?”

 

The smile she received in response was all the answer she needed.  Her lips were on his in an instant, soaking up the warmth of his body as his hands found the small of her back.

 

“I meant to tell you how beautiful you look, but your father walked in before I could say it.”

 

She stepped back and twirled around to give him a better view of the plum velvet dress.  It came to a rather daring plunge in the front, accentuated by a delicate gold necklace with a lightening bolt pendant on the end that dipped into her cleavage.  It had been a gift from Harry some months back, a gift she had actually discovered herself and was going to purchase, before he beat her to it.  Soft velvet draped over her shoulders and clung to her waist, finally swirling out around her thighs as she spun.

 

“You like it?”

 

“Very much.  Maybe the fact that I’m in love with you has some bearing, but I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

 

He offered another soft kiss and then steered her toward the table.

 

“Shall we sit?”

 

Pulling out her chair, Harry gestured for her to take her seat before he went around the table and took his own.  Ginny was still absorbing the incredible display of roses when a familiar looking red-head appeared from around the corner carrying a silver bucket, a wine bottle poking out of the top.

 

“Ron!”  She laughed in delight seeing him all dressed up in what appeared to be a Muggle tuxedo.  He looked downright handsome and smiled back at her as he approached the table.

 

The moment Ron spoke, Ginny recognized the game and couldn’t fight the smile that kept control of her face.

 

“Welcome.  My name is Ronald and I shall be your waiter this evening.  Would you care to start with some wine?”  Ron pulled the wine bottle out of the ice bucket and held it out for them to see.

 

Ginny looked to Harry who appeared to be enjoying Ron’s portrayal and nodded his agreement.  A moment later Ron poured the wine and excused himself, saying he would be back with their appetizer in a moment.

 

“Harry, how in the world did you get all these roses and where is the music coming from?”

 

“I told you I’d bring the rose for the tango and to answer your second question, there is a string quartet hiding in the bushes.”  She laughed, thinking this a joke until he looked at her more seriously.  “There actually is.”

 

“You’re joking.”  This she had to see for herself and got up to walk across the small clearing, heading in the direction of the music.  Sure enough, just between two twinkling hedges, she saw them, playing gaily just out of sight.

 

When she turned back around Harry was standing, waiting for her return and Ron had arrived with two plates.  A moment later they were both seated again and Ginny recognized one of her favorites on the plate.

 

“How did you…”  Suddenly, she caught on to the ruse.  “Mum made this, didn’t she?”

 

“Yes.  I wanted you to have all your favorites.”

 

“So, this isn’t a business dinner at all.  I figured you were just pulling my leg.”

 

“Well, no, it isn’t really business, but I would still love to know how the fundraiser went the other night.”

 

As Ginny had spent the entire day counting money, evaluating the evening and coming up with suggestions, the next part of their conversation flowed along quite smoothly.  Meanwhile, Ron had brought out the main course, another of her favorites and she was thoroughly enjoying the dinner and conversation with the gorgeous man sitting across the table from her.

 

“So, I really think we’re on to something.  Obviously Ron isn’t going to auction his lips off on a regular basis, but what about a Bachelor auction?  We find ten of the most eligible bachelors and they dress up and the women have to bid on a date with them.”

 

“Hmm.  Okay, I guess, but where are you going to find ten eligible bachelors that these women would want to date.”

 

“Well, there’s Ron and you and…”

 

“Wait a minute!  I’d have to pay out a fortune to cover Hermione’s bets because you know she wouldn’t let another woman date Ron, no matter if it was for charity or not.”

 

“You know that girl didn’t have thousands of galleons to bet with.  She was just being spiteful.”

 

“I know, but Hermione was on a roll and she looked to desperate.  I wasn’t about to let that girl beat her out.  I was already going to build that new orphanage anyway so, I’ll just say I was putting that money toward it.”

 

“That’s fine and I don’t fault you for helping Hermione.  I would have done the same.  Still, I think we could make quite a bit off this idea.”

 

“You can’t sit there and tell me that you’d let me auction myself off to the highest bidder and go on a date with some other woman either.”  His eyes were shining with an expectant laughter hidden just beneath them.

 

“I might, if she weren’t too pretty.  If not, I’d just outbid her!”  She shrugged and took a sip of her wine.

 

Harry wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin on his plate, pushing back from the table.  Two steps and he stood beside her, his hand extended.

 

“Will you dance with me?”

 

“I would love to.”  She rose to join him and he directed her to the center of the clearing, sweeping his arm around her and dropping her into a deep dip.  

 

“Harry!”  His arms were strong and held her without the slightest waver, his face now inches from hers.  The steamy tension was pouring off of him, his warm breath just dusting her cheek as his eyes smoldered with intensity.

 

“I told you we’d tango.”

 

This was just too entertaining to pass up.  Besides he looked so absolutely hot doing that, there was no way she was going to miss it.  So, together they did their best to stay serious and act out all the right moves, pressing their cheeks to each other while attempting to not trip over each others feet.  The giggles that escaped couldn’t be helped, especially not when he would dip her or pull her so close that his body heat would do wonderous things to her insides.

 

When the music ended, she heard clapping and turned to see Ron, grinning in front of their table, having just delivered dessert.

 

“Ron, did you know he was going to do that?”  She asked, still reclining in Harry’s arms.

 

“I’m just the waiter, ma’am.  I don’t know anything.”  He winked at her and turned to leave the clearing once again.

 

Lifting her back up, Harry twirled her around again and this time when he dipped her she reached over her head and grabbed one of the many roses that adorned their autumn oasis.  As she stood back up, she inhaled the fragrant aroma and brushed the petals over her cheek.

 

“Harry.  This is a real rose.  It isn’t transfigured.  How in the world did you manage to find this many _real_ roses?”

 

“Well, you see…I’m a wizard and I can do magic!”

 

Ginny chuckled as Harry waved his wand toward the sky.  Her laughter was soon muted and her face turned to awe as she looked up.  It was a clear night, but somehow Harry had just managed to fill the sky with an indescribable number of stars, moons, planets and all colors of the atmosphere.  Directly overhead, the stars spelled out ‘I love you, Ginny.’

 

“Oh, my god, Harry.  How did you do that?”  Stunned wasn’t a strong enough word for her current state as she continued to stare at the heavenly display above them.  After several moments, she leveled out her gaze, mouth still open in awe and really studied him.

 

Not one single person in the wizarding world could look at Harry the way she did.  To them, he was a symbol, a force, even a pseudo-mythological character who defied the odds as an infant and then reappeared as their savior years later.  She had been one of those people years ago, but then he became a friend and a mentor.  His love and support for Ron and Hermione offered her a glimpse into a side of Harry Potter that the general public never saw.  Then they became teammates.  You learn a lot about someone in sports and Harry’s repertoire of qualities increased to include:  loyal, skilled, strategic, supportive, funny and human…much more human.  However, it was that day that he walked into the Common Room after the game.  Happiness was filling every pore of her body and many believed she ran up and kissed him simply in celebration.  The fact was that at some moment during that fabulous victory, Harry escaped the bounds of his name and entered into her heart.

 

His talent and strength were inspiring, even to her, but she was never afraid.  Harry exuded an aura of safety and security when she was with him and those eyes; they truly spoke volumes of his love for her.

 

“I wanted to do something really special for you, Gin.  I want this to be a special night for us.”

 

She stroked his cheek.  “Harry, the night is special just because you’re with me.”

 

“I’ll always be with you.  You’ve filled a hole that was in me for so many years.  I never had anything that was truly mine, nothing and no one to love or care for.  When I came to Hogwarts I found your brother and Hermione, and some of that changed.  Still when we kissed that first time, I finally felt whole, you know?  Now that I’ve had time to get to know you and love you, I don’t think I could survive without you.”

 

Ginny took in a breath, about to respond, but Harry cut her off.

 

“Please let me finish.  I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, about us, about what I want in my life.  The past eighteen months have been the best times of my life.  Even just writing to you last year was thrilling, but now that I get to see you every day….”  

 

He swallowed with a bit of difficulty, but Ginny couldn’t move under his intense gaze and soul fusing words.  Her chest constricted and a flutter of quick beats made her tingle.  Even the air going in and out of her lungs seemed to still with his confession.

 

“I love you, Gin.  I need you to know that I will never, ever leave you.  You are my whole world.”

 

Harry dropped to a knee in front of her, still holding her hands and Ginny’s heart completely stopped, only to restart seconds later at an even faster tempo.  The music seemed to fade and she was sure a shooting star just passed over them.

 

“I swear on my magic that I will dedicate my life to showing you the truest love and devotion.”

 

Ginny knew that when a wizard made a vow on his magic, it could be binding if spoken with true intent and not retracted immediately.  If a wizard swore on his magic to never drink alcohol again and then even had the tiniest sip of even medicinal wine, he would instantly find himself a squib.  She wondered if Harry realized what he was saying.  Harry Potter, the most powerful wizard in history, had just ultimately relinquished his magic should he ever live his life contrary to his vow.  She actually felt panicked for him.

 

“Harry, you can’t swear that!  You could lose your magic.  You have to retract it immediately.  It’s binding.”

 

“I know it is.  Your brother explained it to me.  I want it to be binding.”  His hand released hers and he slipped it into his pocket and withdrew a small box.  “Ginny, will you make a life with me?  Will you be my wife?”

 

He pulled the top back on the black velvet box to reveal the most breathtaking diamond and platinum ring she had ever seen.  It was huge by her standards and seeing it, along with the beautiful sincerity in his voice caused moisture to build behind her eyes.

 

Her right hand flew to her mouth out of sheer shock and joy, her eyes blinking back the tears, but when she didn’t answer, he released her hand and pulled the ring from the box.  As he stood back up, he took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger and then pressed her hand against his heart, folding his own over it.

 

His other arm reached around her, bringing their bodies together as he tipped his forehead to rest on hers and her hand fell away from her mouth, instead slipping around the nape of his neck.

 

“Marry me, Ginny?”

 

“Yes.”  She only managed a whisper at first until she finally managed to pull in a bigger breath.

 

“Yes!”  This time it was perfectly clear and Harry bent his knees and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around in unmatched joy.

 

*** 

 

In the backyard of the Burrow, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat together on a wooden swing, his arm around her shoulders, a blanket on their lap.  Ron sat nearby, sipping a cup of hot chocolate to fend off the cool autumn night.

 

All was quiet except for the faint sound of string music playing from a glade nearby.  They had just witnessed the most beautiful display of aurora borealis and stars they had ever seen, along with a celestial statement of Harry’s feelings for their daughter and sister in the tiny stars overhead.

 

The peaceful night was suddenly shattered with a joyful scream.

 

“YES!”  It was followed by the most wonderful light-hearted laugh they all could ever hope to hear.

 

Mr. Weasley instinctively handed a hanky to his wife, who promptly dabbed her eyes.

 

Ron stood up, a wide smile on his face.  “Well, I think my job here is done.  I promised Hermione, I’d come and tell her the news.”  He walked over and kissed his mother on the cheek.

 

“I’ll see you both soon, alright?”

 

“Goodnight, son.  Tell Hermione we said hello.”

 

Ron was gone with a soft pop and the stillness returned.

 

“Do you think we should wait up for them?”  Mrs. Weasley asked, still snuggled into her husband’s side.

 

“No.  They’re engaged now, dear.  I think they deserve some privacy.”  He lifted the blanket off of them and stood up, holding his hand out for his wife.  “Besides, I think I’d like a little private time with my wife so, why don’t we leave them and head off to bed, hmmm?”

 

She looked coyly at him and stood up.  “Do you remember what we did the night you proposed?”

 

“I sure do.”

 

“Do you want to do it again?”  She giggled and rushed into the house, an eager looking Mr. Weasley following right after.


	9. Chapter 9 - Love Is In The Air

 

_Hold on to your knickers folks, because love is in the air!_   

Friday Night

  

“Hermione?”

 

Boyfriend or not, it was still polite to Apparate into the entrance hall and announce yourself, and that is where Ron showed up around eight o’clock.  She tipped her wand around the corner, then her nose, then her head confirming that it was indeed her boyfriend and not some unwanted guest.  Still dressed in his waiter attire, he stepped lightly into the room and smiled.

 

Lowering her wand, she noticed him take in her appearance, a simple white dressing gown.  It obviously had captured his attention, his eyes making the point, but he kept his composure.

 

“I’m proud of you, Hermione.  Constant vigilance!”  

 

“A witch can’t be too careful these days.”  

 

Ron turned on a slow saunter toward her, emphasizing his words with each step.

 

“Especially a witch as beautiful as you.”  This put him directly in front of her with a perilous grin on his face that filled her with tingles.

 

His height demanded she tip her head back to fully look into his eyes, something she sensed that Ron enjoyed tremendously for his focus slipped to her neck for more than just a quick glance.  His hands landed on the back of her waist, his thumb hooking around her belt.

 

The feral looks he was giving her forced her to bite her lip and return the grin.  This wasn’t the usual Ron, or was it?  Underneath his lustful stares, he was displaying a playfulness that brought the same desires out of her.  With her most seductive voice, she turned up the heat.

 

“I love a man in uniform.”

 

“You do?”  His eyes still smiled, even if his face was more neutral.

 

“Oh, yes.”  She started to walk slowly around him, her trailing hand following a path that hit all the sensitive places on his body just to see what would happen.  By the time she completed all three sixty, Ron already had the beginnings of a very impressive hard on.  His eyes weren’t the only ones that were wandering.

 

He appeared to be preoccupied with finding a way to untie her dressing gown and discovering the mysteries held within.  Every day this week, he had surprised her more and more and she supposed after witnessing portions of Harry and Ginny’s proposal dinner, Ron was already on an emotional high.   However, she was also dying to know what had happened and decided she had better ask now, because with that look in his eye, she wouldn’t get the chance again.

 

“Well?”  Hermione’s tone was altogether serious, not playful, trying to get his attention away from her dressing gown for just a moment.

 

Ron’s brain appeared far too occupied with her belt to comprehend her question and he looked blankly at her, as if struggling to decipher a puzzle.

 

“Well?”  He repeated back.

 

“How did it go?  Harry?  Ginny?  You know?”  She gestured wildly with her hands for him to give her the news.  He couldn’t have forgotten already?  

 

Finally, enlightenment reigned and Ron’s features relaxed, his smile returning.

 

“Well, Mum, Dad and I were sitting in the garden, not long after dessert…” again, she felt him tug on her belt as he continued, “and we heard a very loud ‘Yes’ followed by a lot of laughter.  So, I’m assuming that’s good news.”

 

She squealed.  “OOOOhhhhh!!”  So thrilled, she jumped to wrap her arms around him and he had no choice but to release the belt and catch her.  

 

“Ronald, that is the best news I’ve heard in a long time!  Aren’t you happy for them?”  

 

“Yeah.  I’m very happy for them.”  However, his words didn’t sound that meaningful probably because his hands had now made it inside her gown, his eyes moving in that direction as well as he steered her toward the couch.  She’d have to check his record one of these days, for Ron Weasley moved with the stealth of a pick-pocket while managing to open her white terrycloth gown.

 

She hadn’t worn anything ostentatious, just a simple yellow long cotton night dress.  It wasn’t satin lingerie and it certainly wasn’t violet which at this point she was sure ranked as Ron’s favorite color.  Perhaps it was just his favorite color of the week!  Either way, she couldn’t get over that look he was giving her as he removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his white tuxedo shirt.

 

“Ronald Weasley!  What do you think you’re do-ING!”  She tipped over the arm of the sofa, more so because of Ron’s gentle push than any clumsiness on her part.  With a bounce, her back hit the cushions and she stared up at the redheaded tiger who was currently crawling over that same sofa arm.  Once before, only once, had she felt the hunger in this man’s eyes and it was only one day prior.

 

All she heard was “I love yellow” just before he pounced.  How else could you describe it?

 

The giggles that escaped her lips were soon muffled by his soft kisses.  His long body more than covered hers, his mouth finding that spot along her jaw as his arms pushed between the cushions and her back, one palming the middle of her spine to hold her close.  This time she was sure she heard a growl as he shifted his weight to ease off of her.  Just when she was finally relaxing into his feast on her throat and wishing he’d move lower, he spoke softly into her ear.

 

“Hmm.  You smell like the strawberries that Harry and Ginny were eating tonight.”  He kissed her neck again.  “I didn’t get to have any of theirs.”  He kissed her again.  “But, I’d like to have some of yours.”

 

Just the slightest bit of apprehension fluttered through her middle.  Despite the yearning desire for him to explore further, to take her beyond their last encounter, a small part of her wondered what Ron meant by that statement.  Brittany’s hurtful words still rang in her ears from that afternoon.  She truly didn’t want to ruin the mood, but she knew that her feelings toward their growing intimacy would need to be made clear and soon or they might run into a very embarrassing and awkward situation.  

 

“Ronald.”  She squirmed just a bit under his weight.  His fringe was tickling her cheek as he pulled her earlobe between his teeth.  “Ronald, my ear is not a strawberry.”

 

“Hmm?”  He pulled back to look at her, clearly recognizing the not-playful tone in her voice.  One look and he must have realized the fact that she had more to say because he backed off of her immediately.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.  Just….”  She sat up, adjusting her dressing gown.  “Let me make some tea and we can talk a bit, okay?”

 

“Um…alright.”  Ron appeared truly bewildered as to why she had derailed him from his berry-induced feast on her skin.

 

Hermione shuffled quickly into the kitchen and started to prepare the tea.  Ron sat ruffling his fringe in thought for a minute before he followed her.  With her back to him, she fussed with the cups and unwrapped some biscuits she had made earlier, placing them on a plate.  All the while her mind buzzed with what she wanted to say to him.  Their relationship had taken such a fast turn this week.  It was wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

 

Desperate for his touch and attention, she now felt a bit embarrassed at allowing herself that pleasure with him the night before.  The idea of being so loose at this point in their relationship felt a bit too liberal and all day she had considered the need to speak to him about it and put on the brakes before things got too out of hand.

 

Then, of course, Brittany had to add insult to injury, insinuating that Ron meant nothing to her.  Even though she knew this was false, it had been bothering her.

 

Suddenly he was there, behind her.  The warm breath on her neck made an introduction and then his large hand slid down her trembling arm just as she placed the last biscuit on the plate.

 

  _What is he doing to me?  He’s making me crazy!  Stop shaking Hermione._

 

“Hermione, what’s wrong?”  His other arm circled her waist and he pulled, forcing her to turn in his arms.  His calloused hand gripped her chin, lifting it toward him.

 

“Please talk to me.  Even if I’ve done something horribly wrong and deserve to be chewed out, I’d rather hear it than have you give me the silent treatment.”

 

This dear, sweet man was concerned he had somehow failed her and she had to smile at his heartfelt concern.

 

“No, Ron.  You haven’t done anything wrong.  Let’s just sit down, alright?”

 

She handed him the tea cup and led the way back to the sofa.  Holding the cup in her hands she took a seat.  He put his on the table and sat on the next cushion, turning toward her, clearly more intent on her words than the beverage.

 

Sipping the tea, her mind still raced to formulate what she wanted to say.  Soothingly, he reached over and swept a long strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

 

“About last night…” she finally spoke.

 

“You were brilliant.”  He smiled, obviously recalling his orgasmic moment and exploration of her chest.

 

“Thanks.  You were, too.  I just feel a little embarrassed about it.”

 

“Oh.  Well…um…there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about.  I mean, we’ve known each other for years.  I think you are the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Didn’t you feel a little embarrassed…I mean having a…you know…in front of me like that and all?”

 

“No, I wasn’t embarrassed.  Yes, I was a little nervous at first, but well, I figure it’s a natural part of us and you are just so incredible.  You made me feel free and sexy and wanted.”

 

“I’m just not sure about this.”

 

“About this?”  He spoke slowly, interrupted by a gulp.  “You mean, about _us_?”  Ron’s smile faded to be replaced with an intolerable look of angst and she countered quickly.

 

“No!  Not us.  I mean…I meant what I said last night.  I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time, but now that it’s here, it’s just kind of overwhelming.”

 

“We can slow down a bit.  I didn’t mean to rush you into anything.”  He wrapped his hand around hers and gently took the cup from her grip, placing it beside his on the table.

 

“You weren’t rushing me, Ron.  Look, I just have some concerns, alright?.”

 

“Okay, go ahead.”  His hands were still wrapped around hers as he slowly slid off the sofa, depositing himself on his knees in front of her.  She glanced down at his somewhat pleading stance and nearly wanted to just throw in the towel and kiss him until they were both delirious, but she had to get this off her chest.

 

“I’ve worked really hard to get where I am in my job.”  He nodded in agreement.  “And on more than one occasion I’ve heard rumors that some people in the Ministry thought I had traded certain favors in order to get where I am.”  Truly, Brittany hadn’t been the first to spread such nasty gossip.

 

His furrowed brow indicated his confusion, but only for a second before understanding her unease.  “Who said that?!”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Yes, it does.  No one is going to talk about my girl like that!”

 

“Ronald, please.  Calm down.  It was a while back and it’s over with.”  She lied, unwilling to bring up Brittany’s recent lies.  “The point is, I’ve had to be very guarded with my reputation during the past year.”  She raised her hand to cradle his whiskered cheeks in her palms.  “I’m afraid I might have pushed you away at the same time and I never wanted to do that.  I wanted you in my life and then last night, everything felt so right and I just gave in.”

 

“Hermione, I’m confused.  You know that I’m not going to go bragging to the guys in the office what a hot thing you are in the sack.  So, why are you concerned about what happens between us in the privacy of our own homes?”

 

“It’s not just you that could talk.  Other people love to start rumors if it’s to their own benefit.”

 

“Well, I’ll put a stop to any rumors that I hear.  Even if I have to say that you’re as chaste as a nun, I’ll say it.  Even if they think I’m a twenty nine year old virgin, I’ll deny everything if you want me to.”

 

Ron had this way about him.  Even in his most sincere moments, she couldn’t help but smile or laugh at the way he put things and she just had to grin.

 

“I promise you won’t be a twenty nine year-old virgin.”

 

“Yeah?”  His grin returned full blast.  “Well, maybe twenty four?”  

 

“Not even that.  Just promise me that our time together will be just for us and that we’ll take our time and do it right.”

 

“I promise.”  He paused just before the sparkle in his eye increased.  “Can I tell Harry?”  He grinned and Hermione knew full well that Ron couldn’t keep a secret from his best mate and he had probably already spilled the beans about their previous adventures.  She told Ginny all her secrets.  It went full circle and Hermione had no misgivings about trading stories amongst the four of them.

 

“Well, I _know_ you’ll tell Harry.”  She said a bit tongue and cheek.  “Just generalities, alright?”  She bit her lip as she grinned back at him.  He lifted her hands, still clutched tightly in his own and kissed them.

 

Pulling her hand free of his tender kisses, she stroked the side of his face, an adoring look about her.  “You’ve got quite a few whiskers these days.”

 

He continued in his jovial mood, speaking deeply and puffing out his chest.  “Those are man whiskers!”

 

However, his expression softened when he looked back at her.  “They certainly are.”  He lifted himself off the floor, slipping his knee onto the cushion and leaned in toward her.  His hands gripped the top of the sofa on either side of her as he repeated a pattern of warm kisses over her lips again and again.  After what seemed like several very long minutes, Ron must have gotten tired of hovering over her like that, for he sat down and swiftly pulled her into his lap.  

 

The assertiveness he had displayed earlier in the evening had been replaced by a slow and gentle serenade of her senses.  Those full, soft lips of his were heaven as she inhaled the woodsy aroma of his shampoo, her fingers demanding they touch his silky hair.

 

Just as her hands found the nape of his neck, she felt his tongue press against her mouth, waiting for her to let him in.  Her lips parted with a stuttered breath and she sensed her own eyelashes flutter when he deepened the kiss, his hands pulling her hips toward him.

 

Hermione’s neck was getting tired from turning into him and she slowly wiggled her way out of his grip and slid her knees onto the cushions on either side of his legs.  With a guilty smile, she started her own serenade, slipping past his shadowy beard until she found the soft spot under his ear.  Slipping his earlobe into her mouth, his voice resonated through her cheek.  “My earlobe isn’t a strawberry, Hermione.”  She smiled, his soft flesh still between her lips.

 

“You’re right.  It’s much better.  You taste more like Chocolate Frogs and Treacle Tart.  Yummy.”  This time she moved down his neck to his collar bone, her hand tugging at his shirt collar to remove the fabric from her intended target.

 

That same longing she had denied herself all those months, the same one that made her give in the night before, it was back and clamoring for more.  She slid the suspenders down his arms, even as her lips moved to the other side of his jaw and Ron actually moaned in pleasure.

 

Finding the tiny row of pearl buttons, she started her descent, kissing each expanse of skin as it was revealed to her.  Soon she had traveled through a soft patch of red hair and was no longer able to reach his stomach without sliding off of him.  So, she settled for just releasing the last two buttons.  Surprisingly, his arms had remained resting on her thighs and he must have enjoyed her undressing him for his eyes were soft and the deepest blue she had ever seen. 

This wasn’t nearly enough.  She wanted to see all of him and tugged at the shirt tails tucked in his black trousers.  He leaned forward, just slightly as she slipped the starched cotton off his shoulders, pushing it down around his elbows.

Her hands traveled back up his pale, freckled chest, drinking him in with her wide brown eyes.  “You are gorgeous, Ron.  No wonder those other girls want to get their hands on you.” 

The smile in his eyes told her how pleased he was with her statement.  “I wouldn’t worry about it.  Your hands are the only ones I want touching me.”  

 

She leaned in and kissed his hardened muscles, the definition and strength shown in them sent a chill through her.  How could she have missed this?  He was stunning!  She took one look at his brown nipple and kissed it, flicking her tongue over the tip and then pulled back to watch it pucker in the moisture, the cool air bringing it to a hard peak.

 

“Oh.”  Ron moaned and his hands finally moved, again gripping the belt on her dressing gown.  Soon, she lavished the same attention on the other side of his chest, receiving another low groan for her efforts.

 

Sitting across his lap, she couldn’t help but feel the swelling in his trousers and she thrilled, now gleaming with her control over him.  There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that she could single handedly, and she meant that in the literal sense, bring him to the breaking point and take him over the edge into bliss.  Just this knowledge made her glance down at his crotch, even as his head lay back on the sofa cushion, eyes closed in passionate pleasure.

 

His hands began to play with her belt, pulling it loose and slipping inside of the terrycloth to hold her waist.  She knew what he wanted.  It was the same thing she wanted.  Sitting on the sofa brought its own perils and she hesitated, pulling her robe closed again and sliding off his lap.

 

Eyes wide open; Ron looked lost and tangled up in his shirt as he sat on the sofa, watching her retreat.

 

“Ronald.  Lock the Floo, Imperturb my flat and meet me in my bedroom in about two minutes.”  She shuffled down the hallway toward her room.

 

*** 

 

Ron’s eyes widened in anticipation.  He did as requested, first having to unbutton his cuffs and shake his arms free of the white tuxedo shirt.  His black suspenders looped his hips, leaving him bare chested and racing with excitement.  He checked the Floo, making sure it was secure and then waved his wand over the doorway and windows, securing and sound proofing her flat at the same time.

 

He paced the floor for a minute or so, making sure he didn’t arrive before her requested time and finally made his way down the hall, extinguishing the lights as he went.  Wondering what he would find, his heart pulsed in his ears.

 

The door to her room was slightly ajar, a soft light pouring through the crack and he paused, considering if he should knock, but finally opted to push it open slowly.  As it swung into the room, he saw her neatly made white bed, four carved posts spiraling up with sheer pink drapes cascading over the top.  Five or six pink candles all burned on the surrounding tables.  This room screamed of femininity, not a black or grey item in sight and Ron soaked in the beauty of Hermione’s sanctuary.

 

Stepping into the room, his heart sunk to his stomach which then alerted his already stiff manhood of the fact that Hermione stood, bathed in candlelight, only a tiny pair of white knickers covering her.  Long, brown tresses hung down her front, providing just enough camouflage for the soft, mounds of curves on her chest.  Her fingers twisted amongst themselves and Ron knew the sign of her nervousness, nearly matched by his own for so many of his dreams were all coming true this week.  It seemed surreal and he forced himself to step forward.

 

Her lowered lashes finally turned up and their eyes locked with each other.  Ron suspected she was looking for some kind of validation of her womanhood, something to confirm that the black robes and conservative attitude were not the real Hermione, but a mask.  A mask covering the true and elegant beauty and sexuality that burned within her.

 

Finally gathering his courage, he walked over to her and kissed her lips, his hands sliding over her shoulders to push the silky waves away.  Brushing her hair back completely, he took a tiny step back and gave himself permission to look down, his entire being focused on the beautiful, creamy, full breasts he had longed to see.  

 

“Oh, my God.  You are so beautiful, Hermione.  I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this.”  His breathing increased for his own words seemed to accentuate the driving want within him.  Her rosy nipples were so plump and inviting that Ron couldn’t resist and bent down to take one in his mouth.

 

Her sighs and other soft sounds seemed to educate him to the sensitivities of her luscious breasts.  How he had longed to know her like this.  He listened to every gasp, every heart-beat as his rough tongue ran a circle around her pert tips, flicking over the tops.  She whimpered and Ron sucked again, determine to draw more sexy sounds out of her.

 

That same faint smell of strawberries filled his head, his mouth now intent on sucking and licking every possible expanse of heavenly flesh like a man dying of malnourishment.

 

When her head fell back in submission, Ron took the briefest of moments to release her wet nipple from his mouth and look down at the beauty before him.  Her curves, always covered by those black robes, were now totally revealed to him.  The pure neck tilted back, her long hair flowing down her spine and over his hand.  Ron worked at memorizing the dent in her neck, the dip between her smooth breasts, the chords of toned, yet feminine muscle that ran down her stomach and her perfect, rounded hips.  Hermione had the most delicious curves and her skin was milky white, not at all like the bespeckled covering he saw every morning in the mirror.  

 

The only thing he couldn’t see was her arse and he took the time to reach around and press his hands over both cheeks, pulling her tightly against him as his mouth plundered her neck.  His cock pulsed, pressing between them, molding into her smoothly, slightly rounded belly.  She must have approved for her hands were firmly in his hair, holding him against her and mashing her yielding breasts against his hardened chest.

 

*** 

 

After several rounds of kisses, Ginny finally calmed down enough that Harry suggested they have their dessert.  After all, Mrs. Weasley had gone to great lengths to make it and it was her favorite.  It almost hurt both of them to chew the delicious strawberry and chocolate confection because their cheeks were stuck in a goofy looking grin the entire time.

 

Harry licked the last of the chocolate sauce from his fork and caught Ginny’s focus shifting down to the diamond on her hand.  He followed her glance, rejoicing in the fact that his selection seemed to please her.  Soon his eyes left the sparkling diamond and found her warm brown eyes.  At this point, each seemed equally breathtaking.

 

You would think that after having proposed, his nerves would have settled.  He should be calm as a cucumber right now.  True, he did feel an immediate relief when she had accepted his proposal, but as he sat across from her, he had a sort of premonition or vision of sorts.

 

This beautiful woman was going to be his wife.  His wife!  That word had never before been in his vocabulary.  It was reserved for adult conversations, not involving him, that addressed issues like jobs, childhood ailments and mortgages.  He was only nineteen.  Youth definitely had a strong grip on him. Hell, his libido screamed of youth, his body nearly always aroused when in her presence.

 

And yet, he was about to venture into a whole new phase of his life, the beginnings of maturity and stability…family.  He wondered if his father had felt this way after proposing to his mother.  It was like a sudden wave of responsibility coming over him.  He would have a wife; someone to look after, to care for, to put first in all things.  

 

She finished her dessert and licked the remains of chocolate off the corner of her mouth, following with her napkin, something Harry would have preferred to have done himself, but that piece of white linen beat him to it.  He licked his lips while staring at hers.

 

“Mum sure is one good cook, isn’t she?”  She tossed the napkins across her plate and Harry’s eyes snapped back to hers.

 

“Yeah.  I owe her big time for tonight,” he said with a grin.

 

“Did she know you were planning to propose tonight?”  Her elbows on the table, both hands folded and her chin rested upon them.  The glint coming off her diamond nearly blinded him, even in the fairy lights.

 

“Well, yes.  I sort of thought it might be good to make sure I had their blessing before I went ahead with this, not that it’s their decision or anything.  I hope you don’t mind.”  The faintest twinge of worry crept over him.

 

“Mind?  No, I think it’s sort of sweet and old-fashioned.”

 

He pushed back from the table, ready to put the last piece of his plan into action.  

 

“How about something else sort of old-fashioned?”

 

She watched curiously as he walked around the side of the hedges and returned a moment later with something folded over his arm.  Withdrawing his wand, he waved it over the grass, then replaced it and opened a massive quilt, spreading it out in the clearing.  When he returned, he offered his hand to her.

 

“Well, would the future Mrs. Potter care to do some old-fashioned star gazing with me?”

 

Harry wasn’t sure, but it appeared he had really impressed his girl for she had an unmistakable flush about her.  He helped pull the chair out as she stood up and he squeezed her hand in his as they walked toward the quilt.

 

“Wait here just a second.”  He darted off between the hedges and found the string quartet, thanking them and paying their requested fee before returning.

 

Ginny had removed her shoes and was sitting in the center of the quilt.  It appeared she had brought over the dish of chocolate and strawberries from their table and was nibbling on one.

 

He kicked off his shoes on the edge and then knelt down crawling toward the center of the quilt.

 

“You cushioned the ground, didn’t you?” she asked, holding half of a bitten strawberry by its stem as she lay back onto the quilt.

 

“Yeah.  Why?”

 

“No reason.  Do you want another one?”  She held up another strawberry.

 

“Maybe later.”  She replaced it in the bowl and he reclined next to her

 

Harry couldn’t help but have a flashback to their times laying under the large oak tree along the lake at Hogwarts, enjoying the springtime breeze as the lake rippled under the sun.  This time as he lay back, the girl that snuggled into this side was even more precious than the one by the lake.  The scent from her soft locks filled him as her head tucked under his chin, his arm coming around to her shoulder.  He had never felt anything as soft as Ginny’s skin.  

 

Her small hand rested on his chest, her fingertips playing a trivial game with the button on his oxford.  Even lying here in this romantic setting, Harry felt only contentment.  Besides the steady beating of his heart and the soft whisper of her breathing, all was quiet.  The autumn chill brought an end to the chirping crickets and seasonal call of the birds.  Instead, the stunning array of stars glittered above them, the green hues of the aurora borealis coating the night sky.

 

“How did you get the stars to do that?” she asked.

 

“You mean the ‘I love you, Ginny’ part?”

 

“All of it.  It’s just amazing.  It looks like you brought the entire universe here.”

 

“You are my entire universe.”  He couldn’t really sense her reaction as she lay there in his arms, but her head shifted more toward him.

 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

 

Romantic or not, she hadn’t lost her sense of humor and Harry gave her a gentle squeeze.

 

“Well, I have to admit that Hermione helped a bit.  I found the charm, but as usual she helped me perfect my technique.”  Her finger slid between the break in his shirt and was just barely stroking his chest.  “You know, if they had put quilts and pretty girls on the astronomy tower back at Hogwarts, I might have done a lot better in that class.”

 

Her giggle made him smile just as her leg folded up this thigh, her calf falling between his knees.  “So, when do you want to get married?” she asked.

 

Harry, still reeling from the contact with her soft leg, did his best to answer.  “Anxious, are we?”

 

She rose up onto her elbow.  “Only anxious to have you all to myself.”  That crinkled grin made his stomach flip for just a second.

 

“I’m already all yours.  You should know that by now.”  His brow furrowed in concern.

 

Pressing herself off the ground, he noted her care in moving her leg cautiously from between his and gracefully slid across his waist, the plum velvet scrunching up her thighs as she straddled him.

 

“I have a confession to make,” she offered.  

 

Looking somewhat serious, Harry did his best to concentrate despite the fact that her thighs were now hugging his hips and his trousers were filling with an uncontrolled swelling.  “What is it?”  His hands rested atop the velvet on her thighs.

 

“Up until tonight, I’ve been a bit…um…concerned.”  She bit her lip, glancing away for a brief moment before returning to him.

 

“Concerned about what?”  The fact that she had concerns made them paramount in his mind and he propped himself onto his elbows.  He wasn’t about to let this evening end with her having even the slightest apprehension.

 

“It’s just that I know how I’ve been hesitant and…” Her hands twisted amongst themselves in her lap.  “I’ve pushed you away numerous times.  I wouldn’t stay with you the other night.”

 

“Oh, Ginny.”  He pulled her hands apart from their tangle of nerves, gripping one firmly.  “We had this talk weeks ago.  I told you then it was fine.  I’m not marrying you just for the guarantee of a steady shag.”

 

“Still, I just want you know how much this means to me.”  She gestured to the ring adorning her hand.  “Having you commit like this, well…you’re my entire universe as well.”  

 

Suddenly it was as if someone had lit a fire behind her eyes.  With an intentional wiggle, she rocked her pelvis, grinding her center against him.  Simultaneously, her fingertips released another button and were moving on to the next.

 

“Are we alone, Harry?”

 

The sudden implications of her actions, coupled with the tone in that question sent a chill through him.  She couldn’t seriously be contemplating what he thought she was contemplating, could she?  

 

“Yes.  I sent the quartet home.”

 

Two more buttons left their anchor and he felt a gentle tug as the bottom of his shirt slipped from his trousers.

 

“Can my parents get back here?”

  

  _Dear Merlin.  She’s unbuckling my belt.  Did I imperturb the area when we came back?_

“Um…” He swallowed thickly.  “Yes, they can.  Ginny, you don’t have to…I mean I-I didn’t…”

He heard a jingle and then the swooping sound of leather being pulled through his belt loops and saw his belt sail through the air, landing somewhere behind her.  The next thing he knew, she reached up under her skirt and drew her wand.  The fact that she was carrying her wand tucked against her thigh was unbelievably sexy and his thoughts flashed to her method of carrying it.  Could she have some silky pocket or perhaps a leather holster strapped to her smooth leg?  The idea only added to his active roster of Ginny fantasies.

 

She swirled her wand around in a large circle over her head and he recognized the incantation that sealed off the area from any possible intruder.  Harry knew she was a talented witch, but her range casting this spell stunned even him.

 

“Whoa!  Ginny, I didn’t know you could do that.”

 

She grinned at him before pointing the wand toward herself.  “There’s probably lots you don’t know about me, but you’ve got a lifetime to learn.”  She muttered a spell and a soft glow hummed over them both.  He recognized the words of the contraception spell, but it seemed impossible.

 

“Ginny, did you just do what I think you just did?”  Harry lie there, pinned against the quilt, his throbbing erection pressing up against her in just the right place.  She placed her wand between her teeth and pulled his shirt open with both of her hands, the green silk sliding to his sides.

 

Harry’s eyes grew wide with anticipation, his body quickly passing mere arousal.  What happened to his sweet, modest, hesitant girlfriend?  She had rarely ever shown aggression in the romance department.  Harry was always the one instigating it and he was comfortable in that role.  Harry liked being in control.  Being the aggressor left little room for nervousness.  

 

She reached forward, her velvet covered breast just brushing his cheek and sat back holding the bowl of chocolate sauce with a wickedly sexy look on her face.

 

  _Okay, so being in control is not that big of a deal._  

The wand dropped from her teeth and she caught it with practiced ease.  Two swishes later he felt his wrists press against the quilt. 

 

“Gin, what are you doing?”  The glow from the stars trickled through the soft strands of her hair, a mystical glimmer radiating all around them.

 

“Harry, you made a promise to me tonight.  It’s something I’ve prayed for since I was eight years old.  I’ve wanted you forever and I plan to make you the happiest husband that ever roamed this earth.  Starting tonight.”

 

Her finger dipped into the bowl and she raised it to her lips, the brown confection dripping down the pad of her finger.  Harry felt his cock twitch when her mouth opened to accept the sweetness on her tongue.  

 

“Oh, my God,” he warbled.

 

With another dip, her hand found his lips and coated them, her mouth leaning in to instantly suck the chocolate from his lower lip, her mouth matching in sweetness as she kissed him.

 

When she pulled back, her gold necklace swung between them, the little lightning bolt just dusting his chest.  It tickled, but Harry was so worked up it made no difference.

 

“You taste good, Harry.”

 

“It’s the chocolate.”  His breathing was becoming shallow.  The fiery redhead sitting across his lap was showing her true colors and turning into a real vixen right before his eyes.  A laugh escaped his lips as he contemplated his concern over this.  

 

_Yeah, right.  Like this isn’t the biggest turn-on you’ve ever seen.  I hope she uses that chocolate sauce elsewhere._

 

Well, that thought pretty much sent him spiraling into full-blown engorgement.  His trousers were at maximum expansion.  If she rubbed against him again, it was very possible his control would slip.  After all, nineteen year old men aren’t typically known for having outstanding restraint: at least not when his brain recalled their night in the shower.  

 

He tested the magical binds on his wrist.  They were holding him firmly in place, even as Ginny scooted back, now straddling his thighs.

 

With a cock of her head, she casually tipped the bowl and a thin stream of chocolate flowed out.  It was as if she were making eclectic designs on his chest as she moved the bowl around, swirling quite a bit over each nipple and a good trail down his sternum, finishing with a tiny pool in his belly button.  

 

“Hmm.” she put the bowl down, but looked questioningly over his chocolate covered torso.  “Well, this looks delicious.”

 

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she pushed herself back and leaned down to lap at the puddle in his belly button.  Those incredible sounds of licking, sucking and the noises she made, like she did that night he ate her out, they were all driving him mad as she made her way up his chest.  She would pause every second or two, after having just coated her tongue in chocolate and look up at him, a very sexy smile on her face.  It was obvious that she knew he was watching and she was trying to give him the ultimate show.

 

Her tongue left a cool trail of moisture up his chest forcing goose bumps to rise on his arms.  The funny thing about goose bumps?  It also makes other parts of you rise up stiffly and Ginny must have noticed for her lips quickly closed over his now hardened nipple, poking through the sugary syrup.  Nibbling it gently between her teeth, her tongue cleared the brown sauce to reveal the pink.

 

The sensations were too much for him to handle.  He had to close his eyes and groan, his thighs tightening and lifting against her.  The impulse to touch her, to take over was overwhelming him and for the first time in many months, Harry felt his magic build and focus.  Desire drove him to it, not an intentional decision to perform any specific spell.  For a split second, Harry almost felt afraid, like he had when he was a young boy and would release accidental bursts of magic when he was angry or frustrated.  However, this time it wasn’t purely accidental, it was controlled, but only by his need to touch her.

 

A surge of power flowed through him and he felt the pressure release from his wrists.  Harry bolted upright, his arms wrapping around her tightly as she squealed in surprise.

 

“Harry!  How did you do that?”

 

“I want to touch you,” he growled.

 

 That was his only thought and it carried him forward, taking her along for the ride as he swiftly exchanged their positions.  Ginny fell to her back, her dress hiking up as he settled between her legs.

 

The tingle of magic still flowed through him, mixed with a heat and passion that she had stirred within him and he merged his fingers with the soft strands of hair flowing up the back of her head, gripping the smooth nape of her neck.  Craving the taste of her soft lips, Harry was ready to plunge in and take his prize.  But when he met her eyes, he paused noting the surprise on her face.  More so, Harry recognized the clarity behind her eyes, her desire and happiness all expressed with such obviousness and the best part was that he saw no evidence of fear at what she had just witnessed.

 

She spoke softly.  “Harry, you amaze me at every turn.”

 

He leaned down for a soft kiss, but within a mere second, she returned it, her arms stroking his bared back under the silky shirt.  The velvet from her dress brushed his naked chest as he pushed the tip of his tongue against her lips, begging for entry.

 

Drawing in a deep breath, she opened her mouth to him and wrapped her calves around his thighs, arching up into him.  Harry heard noises and realized he was growling and pressing back against her, his cock throbbing to escape and feel her heat more directly.

 

His lips wandered her face and were about to settle along her jaw when he felt her legs release him and her hands slid up his arms.  He mourned the loss of contact just as her small hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back.

 

“Harry, can you sit up, please?”

 

A million and one thoughts swirled through his lust-filled brain, each one wondering what he had done to warrant her withdrawal.  His heart plummeted, at first mainly due to his body’s frustration, but then that word appeared in the front of his thoughts once again.  Wife.  It was like a slap in the face, for he drew back, immediately concerned he had hurt her or taken things too fast.

 

If he had made some error, it didn’t show on her face as she sat up, looking very flushed, a soft sheen of perspiration coating her chest and neck.  Her eyes tilted down, examining him as he sat, his green shirt tangled around his arms, a huge bulge in his grey trousers and licked her lips before lifting her gaze back to him.

 

His eyes followed her as she crawled around him, her hands carefully untangling the silk from his arms.  Arriving behind him, she pulled his shirt down, revealing a muscular back.  As his arms slipped free, he heard the soft swish as the shirt landed in a puddle nearby and her lips suddenly settled on the back of his neck.  Her hands slid over his shoulders then down his arms and he shivered inside as her lips moved around his neck.  The heat from her breath wafted over his ear as she sucked his lobe between her lips.

 

Slipping shut, his eyes never witnessed her next move, although he felt the air shift when she released him and crawled back around to the center of the quilt.  When he opened his lids, she sat with her back to him and was releasing the clasp that held her hair back.  It fell down her back in lovely waves and he wanted to run his hands through it.  A few strands found his fingertips before she reached behind her to gather it and swung it over her shoulder, turning her head toward him.

 

“Unzip my dress, Harry.”

 

Now he understood her intentions and felt relief and then a renewed sense of arousal as he found the tiny pull and lowered the zipper on her dress.  With the velvet separating over her back, he caught a glimpse of red lace and found he couldn’t remove his eyes as the rest of her dress opened in the back.

 

Returning her gesture, he kissed the nape of her neck and pushed the fabric from her shoulders.  Her dress pooled around her waist and Harry took the time to run a trail of feathery kisses down her arm and back up her spine.  He wanted to feel her soft skin against his and he leaned in, brushing his chest against her back.  His arms encircled her waist as he pressed more kisses into her neck and shoulder, her head tipping to the side to give him easier access. 

 

The weight of her body seemed to relax into him and her arm reached up and around his head, guiding him and holding him as he explored her sweeping neck with more peppered kisses.  When his eyes opened again, they saw the tops of more red lace, just covering her supple breasts below and his hand left her waist and slid up to cup her.

 

She released a whispered “Yes,” and her mouth fell open, her chest rising and falling steadily against his hand as he squeezed her lacy breast.  The hand around her middle began a southward trip and slid inside the waves of velvet bunched around her waist.

 

“You are so soft,” he whispered as his fingertips brushed over more lace below.

 

He knew what lay beneath; he’d seen it twice, once up close and personal.  Still, it was as if he had never touched her before.  The electricity flowing between them, the excitement of anticipation felt just as new as it had days before.  Harry wondered if he would always feel this intoxicated when he touched her.  Feeling bold, he slipped inside the edge of her knickers and immediately wished he could be that thin strip of lace for she felt wonderfully warm and smooth.

 

His right hand followed the strap of her bra and carefully guided it down her shoulder.  At the same time he discovered that she seemed to really like when he kissed her ear for she started offering these soft mewing sounds and squirming a bit more, her nails raking over his neck as she held his lips to her.

 

With the strap down, he found more room to maneuver and snuck his fingertips under the top edge of her lacy trim, finding her soft, full areola just begging to be touched.

 

“You have a brilliant body.  I can’t believe I’m this lucky.”  He slid her lobe between his teeth, enticing another weak moan and his other hand pushed farther inside her bra, nearly holding all of her ample breast in his hand.  He kissed her neck once more.

 

Harry spoke more to himself than to her, so enraptured was he of the sensations he was currently experiencing.  “I’d fight Voldemort 100 times if it meant I could be with you just once.”

 

Her sudden movement broke the trance and she turned in his arms, forcing him to release her.  Those same wonderful, soft hands cupped his face.

 

“All that is behind us now.”  She stroked his cheek and kissed him tenderly.  “You were born for a purpose Harry.”

 

He nodded in response, no longer needing to be reminded of his legacy as savior of the Wizarding world.

 

“To marry me, make lots of babies and watch them grow until we are old, gray and exceedingly happy.”

 

Well, that wasn’t what he expected, but it was very revealing.  It brought his life into a new perspective.  He paused, thinking to himself that she might be spot on.  Perhaps everything that had occurred in his life was all leading up to this moment.  Could it be possible that his tortured childhood and hardened teen years were all part of some grand plan for him?  Without having those experiences, he would never appreciate the beauty and love of the woman before him, the woman who loved him like no other and wanted what?  Did she say lots of babies?

 

Just then Harry’s eyes brightened as Ginny stood up, leaving him with the perfect box seats for the next part of the show.  For her dress slipped over her curvaceous hips and Harry had to swallow quickly to keep from drooling when she revealed the matching red lace knickers – only strings hugging the sides of her.

 

Her ample but firm bottom rounded out below the satin and lace as she stepped gracefully out of the dress.  To his delight, he also received the answer to his earlier question, finding a black satin garter embracing her thigh, her wand sheathed in a silken pocket tucked underneath it.

 

Surely having a mind of their own, his hands stroked up her legs, longing to feel the garter and her firm thighs.

 

“That is fucking sexy, Ginny.”

 

If this extended foreplay had done anything to tame his pulsing arousal then her next move brought it back to its full blazing glory.  She bent over to pick up her dress and Harry got an orgasmic view of her arse where just a peak of dark copper hair curled out from under the edges of the red satin covering her entrance.

 

She spun around to face him again, seemingly unaware of her impact on him.

 

“Well, a witch has to have her wand ready at all times.”

 

A crooked finger, gestured for him to stand.  It wasn’t possible, but Harry still considered that he might be under the Imperius curse, for she truly had bewitched him and he would do anything she asked.  For the briefest of seconds he considered that this was an imposter, a poly-juiced version of his Ginny.  His girl wasn’t this confident, especially in matters regarding their ever increasing intimacy.

 

Then she kissed him and all his doubts washed away.  Only his darling girl tasted this way and smelled of honeysuckle.  Harry was sure that all five hundred and twenty two freckles were exactly in the same spot.

 

  _I wonder how many more freckles she has down there.  I’ll have to count them next time._

Finding the clasp in the middle of her back, he finally removed her bra and pulled it off,  releasing her full breasts.  After shrugging it down her arms, she kissed him again, only this time her hands went to his waist and he felt her pinching the fabric to unhook the clasp on his trousers and then he heard the zipper rip down.

 

He knew that his cock often had a mind of it’s own for it would move involuntarily at times and swell uncontrollably in her presence, but he considered that it might have ears as well.  The sound of the zipper brought it to top-notch, peak performance position and Harry stood startled as he took her hands in his.

 

“Um…Ginny.  Listen, I want you to know that I wasn’t planning on this for us tonight.  I just wanted you to have a romantic dinner and to be able to tell you what you meant to me.  I meant what I said earlier.  I’m not trying to push you into anything.  I’m not expecting anything more tonight.”

 

She looked deeply into his jade orbs, an intense look of love and devotion behind her, an expression that Harry had grown to recognize and to love.

 

“I am.”

 

She clutched the fabric around his hips and started to pull, lowering herself to the quilt as his trousers slid down his legs.

 

_Oh, Fuck!  She wants to really do this!  Why else did she use a contraception spell?  Oh, my God, we’re going to have sex!  Don’t jump to conclusions.  She might still change her mind.  Take it easy._

After stepping out of each leg, he watched Ginny scoot back on the quilt and casually pick up a strawberry from the bowl.  Standing paralyzed with desire and anticipation, his mouth fell open when she dipped the berry in the chocolate sauce, lay down and placed it between her breasts.

 

Once again, her radiant smile broke the tension of the moment and Harry tried to quickly formulate some words.  If he truly spoke what he was thinking, it would come out ‘sex, sex, sex’ but his eyes flickered back and forth between the berry and her large rosy nipple, trying to decide which looked tastier and the words just flew out of him with ease.

 

“Well, I am a little hungry.”

 

She giggled and Harry practically jumped on top of her eliciting a joyful scream from his strawberry, chocolate and honeysuckle girl.  His mouth went straight for the strawberry, but only one chew into it and he was already partaking of her other delicious offerings.  The flavors still swirled in his mouth as he latched on to her pert, rosy delicacy and her laughter changed into a pleasantly uplifting moan.  It wasn’t difficult to know that she enjoyed his attentions and his hands slid down, wanting to explore those tiny strings that were holding her knickers against her.

 

“Take them off, Harry.”

 

The whispered request burned through him and he drew back to confirm.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Well, this he just had to watch.  Again, it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen her before, but somehow the act of removing rich red satin to find curly copper femininity was too good to pass up.  Palming her hips, he allowed his fingers to slip under the lace and guide them down as she raised herself off the ground.  As he freed her legs of the garment, he truly didn’t expect what he saw next.  She lifted a knee and spread her legs for him, lying on the patchwork quilt like a smorgasbord waiting to be sampled.

 

Her sweet pussy glistened of moisture and Harry instantly recognized that she was already wet for him.  Crawling forward, he placed a tender kiss on the inside of her thigh, his hand trailing behind.  Glancing up at her face one last time to verify her permission, he dragged one fingertip through the patch of curls and into the pink silk that lie directly beneath.

 

Only one stroke and she moaned out.

 

“Oh.  Hmmm.”

 

Harry thanked the twins for their only contribution to his emotional and sexual upbringing; for they had slipped him a book about a year earlier that had proven invaluable when it came to matters of the female anatomy.  He had, of course, read this book cover to cover and could nearly quote the passages from heart.  Based on this research, he knew that being a virgin; she would need to be very wet and very aroused before he could even think of sliding inside of her.  He also knew that it could be painful and that part tore at his heart for he would never ever do anything to hurt his soon-to-be wife.

 

Still, he continued, dipping his finger slightly deeper against her slippery slit as he found her perfect little spot and started around in circles.  He began a round of kisses across her belly, getting continually closer to the spot he knew she wanted him to kiss.

 

More moans filled the quiet autumn air around them and suddenly she rocked her pelvis up and he felt a gush of wetness trail out of her.  Daring to prepare her for what he hoped would be their ultimate union; he carefully slid his middle finger into her, only up to the knuckle, continuing his circles with the other.

 

“Ah…yes.  More.”  She called out and pushed against him, begging for him to delve deeper.  This was the most fantastic feeling.  She was like cream inside, her walls smooth and muscular and he pushed his finger in all the way, his knuckles buried in her bush.

 

Maybe it was in the stars that night, after all there were a million or more to choose from in Harry’s celestial menagerie, but her next words hit him like one of his conjured shooting stars.

 

“Harry, I want you.  I want you now.”

 

She wiggled in a way that clearly told him to remove his fingers, which he did without being asked.  Her chest was heaving, her flat stomach shining with perspiration and the juices from her vagina dripping down her tight, milky thigh.

 

This was it.  A huge turning point and Harry knew there was no going back if he went through with this.  He wanted her more than anything, but he had to know that she was positive about this and so he crawled up along side her, stroking her cheek with infinite tenderness.

 

“Are you sure about this?  You seemed really positive about waiting.  I’d feel really horrible if we do this and you regret it tomorrow.”

 

Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair at the nape of his neck.  “How could I ever regret making love to you, Harry?  You’re already half of my soul.  I want to share everything with you.  I don’t want to wait anymore.”

 

To drive home the point, her hand reached through the pocket in his boxers and stroked his hard shaft.  Harry’s eyes closed involuntarily, an aching groan resonating in his throat.

 

“Please.”  She withdrew her hand and tugged on the elastic band circling his hips.

 

“I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you, love.”

 

“Just go slow and I’ll be fine.”

 

Harry truly didn’t know what to say and she must have sensed it.

 

“Harry, I’m aching for you.  I need you.”

 

  _This is it.  She’s sure.  She did the contraception spell.  Alright, Harry, do this right for her._

He rolled onto his back and quickly slipped his boxers off, his cock jutting forth and primed.  Her words ‘go slow’ played in his mind and he carefully rolled back to her and offered her his deepest, most loving kiss, his hand drifting over her supple bosom.

 

Moving cautiously, he slipped on top of her and allowed his hips to rest between her legs, his cock pressing into her belly.  Raising up on his knees, he returned one hand to her hot, moist opening, stroking it tenderly a few more times, trying to bring her arousal back to its heightened state.  Only seconds later, she whimpered at his touch and he gripped his cock and placed it at her entrance.

 

Rubbing the tip through her juices, he carefully separated her lips and pushed forward.  First, just the head pressed in and already he was reeling from the incredible softness bombarding every nerve ending in his tip.  He quickly examined her expression, making sure all was well and then pushed a bit farther.

 

“Oh, my God.”  She spoke and Harry stilled, not sure if it was the pain of agony or ecstasy.

 

“Do you want me stop?”

 

“No.  Take me, Harry.  Take me now.”  She spoke urgently, a deep yearning in her voice.

 

He released his guiding hand and allowed himself to level out before pushing forward.  Her body seemed to try and stop him, the tight walls blocking his way, but he thrust his hips forward, forcing her to accept him and sunk completely into her.

 

“Ahhh.”

 

Despite his concern for her, he couldn’t help but wallow in the all consuming heat and pressure she was exerting on him.  It was utterly mind-blowing and Harry released a breath from his constricted chest.  He allowed himself a few precious seconds to enjoy the sensations, but something told him to check on her and when he saw her face, she had a definite grimace.

 

“Ginny.  Are you okay?  Should I pull out?”

 

No words were spoken, but she shook her head, her eyes still squeezed shut in apparent pain.  He waited for a moment, but the urge to pump her was beginning to take over.  The throbbing ache deep within him insisted he move, but he held out for a few more seconds.

 

“I need to move, Gin.”  His head fell forward and he grunted as her tight walls consumed him.

 

“It’s alright.  Go ahead,” she whispered.

 

Slowly withdrawing, he allowed his body to take over and pressed back in a firm stroke.  “Oh, God.”   He felt the muscles in his arse constrict and he pumped her again, just a bit harder.  A soft noise escaped her lips mixed with his own grunts as he began to rock in and out.

 

“It’s feeling better now.”  Her eyes were open, no longer clenched shut and her hands had found his chest.

 

The sounds of their moans filled the glade with every deep stroke.  Harry quickly found a rhythm, sliding freely in and out of her slick tunnel as he stared into her face and gently stroked her cheeks.  She began to meet his thrusts, pushing against him, grunting with each penetration, her nails raking over his back.  Harry’s lips latched onto her neck, tasting the salt from her glistening body as he slammed into her again, the sounds of wet skin slapping on skin.  His hand slid between them and found her little nub, now swollen and soaked, determined to bring her with him.

 

The pressure was reaching critical, the friction from her hot walls was about to send him over the edge as he grunted with each push.  Suddenly she arched her back and cried out a warning.

 

“Oh….oh….oh….yes” and then she screamed, her pussy clenching and pulsing around him.  With one final deep thrust, his cock exploded into her and his mouth fell open, sounds of ecstasy pouring forth as her muscles milked him within her.

 

Her arms fell back to the quilt, only the sounds of deep breathing echoed off the roses surrounding them.  Harry thanked his elbows for holding him up, for otherwise he would crush her as the last of his seed drained out of him.

 

Afraid to move, but utterly relaxed, he sucked in a breath off of her moist skin, finally pressing a weak kiss into her shoulder.

 

Through panted breath he spoke to his betrothed.  “I….love you…..Gin.”  The sound was muffled by her skin, but she must have heard him for her fingers slid back into his hair.  Carefully, he slid free of her and collapsed beside her, his hand draping her waist.

 

Both lie there for a minute, each catching their breath, both sated and warm.  Ginny rolled to her side and drew her legs up a bit, her back toward him.  He noticed her withdrawal from his embrace and lifted himself up, gently drawing the hair off of her neck.

 

“Gin?  Are you alright?”

 

 “I’ll be fine, Harry.”

 

“Did I hurt you, love?”

 

“You didn’t mean to and it felt good at the end.”

 

He kissed her shoulder as she maintained her guarded position.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Finally she turned to him.  “It’s fine, Harry.  Really.  It felt great at the end.  I’m just a bit sore.”

 

“How about a bath.  Would that help?  We could Apparate right to my flat and you could soak in the tub.”

 

“I suppose that might help.”

 

Harry dressed quickly, but Ginny remained on the quilt.  He gathered her soft, naked body in his arms and Apparated them both directly to his bedroom.  Within minutes he had the bath drawn and helped her in as she kissed him tenderly before sitting down to soak.

 

*** 

 

Ron’s lips continued to caress her neck and he soon found that breathing in her ear and kissing that area brought very erotic sounds from her mouth and she wiggled against him with each exhale.

 

“Oh, Ron.  Oh, God.”

 

She began to reciprocate, kissing his neck, but shivering every time he found her ear.  Ron was getting a little tired from bending over her and started to steer her toward the bed.

 

As he backed her into the mattress, her knees broke over the edge and she landed with a small bounce on her bum.  This earned him a slight giggle, breaking the intensity of their past ten minutes and Ron couldn’t help when his own face lit up from her expression.  He wasn’t sure what to do next, crawl up along side her, on top of her or maybe better yet, try to divest her of those knickers.  He hoped that she would direct him and indeed she did.

 

With a lick of her lips, Hermione’s hands reached for the hook on his trousers.  Ron’s immediate reaction was to grab the bedpost as she tugged to pull the waistband apart.  A second later, the zipper came down, very slowly.  He suspected she was being cautious, not wanting to hurt him, based on her expression and careful gesture.  That thought was fleeting, however, as Ron watched her slip her fingers inside the black fabric and push them down his hips.

 

The blue boxers did little to hide the very attentive symbol of his manhood that was nearly ready to push through the opening.  Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she reached inside to pull him out.

 

“Um…I was wondering if I could try something different tonight.”

 

Ron tried to swallow, but it seemed to lock in his throat and he half stuttered, half choked out a response.  “W-what?”

 

“Well, you see I read some things in this book about how to…”

 Ron’s brain was racing _.  To what?  To what?  Ask her!!_

 

“To?”  His cock was willing and ready to hear what she had read and was offering itself up as a willing test subject, if this is what he thought it was.  Her hand slid over him gently even as she spoke and Ron felt completely mute with want.

 

“To please you with my mouth.”

 

  _Dear Merlin, my prayers have been answered!_

Ron knew that was his cock talking in his head and he had to use every ounce of control to keep from pushing forward and giving her a little encouragement to get started.  Instead, he found some hidden source of moral strength and pulled on it with all his might to answer her back.

 

“You can if you want to…um…” deep swallow “I mean I don’t mind, but you don’t have to.”

 

  _You don’t have to?  What the hell is wrong with you?!_

She tilted her head, her shoulders slumping a bit as she released a breath.  “Well, I know I don’t _have_ to, you dolt.”

 

“Oh, um...yeah…of course.”

 

Ron was getting dizzy from her constant stroking and he began to doubt the strength of his legs to hold him up should she actually put her mouth on him.

 

Looking innocently, she asked as her lips neared his tip.  “You’ll tell me if I do anything wrong?”

 

With wide eyes and a death grip on the bedpost, he nodded his head frantically watching her approach his very stiff cock.

 

_Don’t push.  Let her do it._

 

Her eyes left his and zeroed in on the eight inches of swollen organ in front of her and Ron felt his nails dig into the post as her tongue darted out to touch his tip.  She started with little flicks and gentle kisses, just on the head, her hand holding him at the base.  With each touch, he felt his balls tighten and a tingle rush through his stomach.

 

Opening her mouth very wide, Ron steadied himself for what he thought was next, but instead she ran the plain of her tongue all the way around his head.  Leaving a moist trail, his cock was turning a deep purple as it pulsed with blood.

 

_Keep control, Ron._

 

Ron recalled how he had lost said control the night before, bursting all over her hand after only a few seconds of her touch.  It was just slightly embarrassing and he vowed to try and maintain himself a bit longer this time.  However, when her other hand jumped in to join the party, Ron sincerely doubted he was going to last all that long.  One hand stroked up the inside of his thigh, sneaking into the hem of his boxers and cupped his balls as the other drew down the shaft, her tongue now doing a dance around his upper third.

 

She glanced up at him with a somewhat devilish grin and then quickly slid her whole mouth over him.  He pulled in a sharp breath as he watched centimeter after centimeter disappearing into her mouth.  She obviously couldn’t take all of him and he knew that, but still she had managed to get half and his eyes finally rolled back into his head.  The heat surrounding him was intense.  Even while enclosed by her soft lips, her tongue still stroked him inside and he finally reached up, grasping the cross-rail of her canopy with his other hand.  His legs were surely going to give out.

 

  _Oh, glorious fucking God!_

 

The moans that began to pour forth from his throat were uncontrollable.  She began a leisurely stroke in and out of her steaming mouth and he answered with grunts, groans and babble that must have meant she was driving him to insanity.  He tried desperately to keep from thrusting into her mouth, but his hips couldn’t help matching her rhythm.

 

Her hand moved up to circle his shaft at the base, stroking it as her mouth continued to suck and lick the top.  Suddenly she picked up speed and starting making these sexy slurping sounds as her watery mouth popped off of him and then slammed back down.

 

“Hermione…I can’t…”  Ron’s control gave way and he opened his eyes just as he felt the rush up his groin.  His arse clenched tightly and his thighs shook as he pulsed out into her mouth.  “Her-my-o-nee!”  Unbelievably, she kept going, milking him as he spilled himself over and over into her mouth until finally, she pressed her lips together and the cream ran down her chin.

 

Sure, he had very erotic fantasies of her swallowing him down, but for her first time, she deserved a blue ribbon and a gold medal and anything else he could give her for he was totally lost.  Only his grip on the bed kept him from total collapse as she stared at him in awe and finally wiped her hand across her chin.

 

Ron released his grip, turned and fell flat on his back, his legs shaking uncontrollably to match his racing heart.  His trousers still lay wrapped around his calves, but they would have to wait for she had surely drained every ounce of energy from him.

 

With his eyes still closed, he heard the mattress creak and felt her get up from the bed.  A moment later, he heard water running and the sounds of a toothbrush doing its job.  Feeling himself shrink back to pre-arousal state, he managed to pull his wand from the pocket now near his ankles and clean himself up a bit.

 

Carefully, he placed himself back in his boxers and managed to kick off his trousers the rest of the way, finally coming back to rest on her white duvet.  His brain was slowly coming back to normal and he started to consider what was next.  Could he do the same for her?  Would she let him?

 

Her words from their earlier conversation echoed in his head and he tried to come up with a scenario that would make her feel good, but not go too far.  The door to the bathroom opened and she shuffled out, her dressing gown back on, something that disappointed and bewildered Ron who now lay in nothing but his boxers on her bed.

 

She sat down beside him and offered a somewhat weak smile.  “Do you feel good?”

 

“Definitely.  That was brilliant.”  He sat back up and shifted over to sit beside her.  “Are you cold?”

 

“No, why?”

 

“Just wondering why you put your gown back on.”  His fingertips reached around to try and pull it off her shoulder, his urgings ready to bring her back to her earlier state of undress.  “You are so beautiful.  You shouldn’t hide it.”

 

She smiled a bit more warmly, but held on to the tie of her robe.  Ron got the distinct impression that she was either angry or upset about something, for his willing angel was being very stand-offish at the moment.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothings wrong.  You enjoyed that, right?”

 

Turning more toward her, his brow furrowed as he spoke.  “Yeah, I said I did.  Did you enjoy it?”

 

“Sure.  Anyway, what matters is if you feel satisfied, right?”  She still sat looking straight ahead on the edge of the bed.

 

Ron was really confused by her manner and he struggled to figure out the cause.  She didn’t appear aroused at all and he knew if he had just done that to her, he’d be more than ready for round two.

 

“Hermione, love, what’s going on?  Are you frightened or what?  Why don’t you want to do anything else with me?”

 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to do anything else, did I?”

 

“It’s pretty obvious.  Did I do something wrong?  Maybe I should have warned you more before I did that in your mouth.  I’m sorry.  It came on kind of fast and strong.”

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ron.  I’m just not feeling quite ready to go any further.”

 

“Hermione, when I touch you, I want you to feel loved, to feel wonderful inside.  But you know what?  It makes me feel wondering inside as well.  I feel fantastic and I want to be with you.  Now, if you’re doing this for me in some misguided attempt to placate me or something.”  Ron almost choked at the thought this could be true and he paused, trying to gather his thoughts.

 

“When I told you I loved you, I really meant it.  I hope you didn’t say it, just because I had said it.  This isn’t a game for me, Hermione.  You shouldn’t feel obligated to take care of me just because I said I love you.”

 

“Ron, it’s not that…I…”

 

Ron’s heart began to ache as he considered that what he was saying could actually be true and he quickly got up and started to gather his clothing.  Stepping into his trousers, he dressed quickly as he spoke, effectively cutting her off mid sentence.

 

“I’m really sorry if I’ve done something to ruin this.  I only wanted to show you what you meant to me, but I can’t be with you if you don’t feel the same.  This can’t be a one-sided relationship.  I’ve got too much at stake.”

 

“Ron…it’s not…”

 

He continued on, pulling up his suspenders.  “If you really want to go to this thing tomorrow night, then fine, I’ll go along.  But, if you are going just to make me happy, then tell me ahead of time, so I don’t show up.”

 

“Ron…wait….wait!”

 

So wound up in his own feelings and trying to banish the hurt that was pressing on his chest, he marched down the hall, Hermione following, trying to get in another word.  He was so sure that whatever she had to say would be the final blow and he just couldn’t deal with it at the moment and decided to leave as soon as possible.

 

“Let me know.”  With a somewhat louder than normal crack, he Apparated away, leaving Hermione and her watery eyes standing in the flat.

     


	10. Chapter 10 - The Real Thing

  
Author's notes:

_Credits for the song referenced in this chapter go to Gia Farrell for her hit “Hit Me Up.”_

__

_This chapter is quite long, so please be prepared..._  


* * *

Saturday

 A gentle rain hummed outside the window.  The sound was soothing and she didn’t want to wake up.  The lack of sun brought no pronouncement of a new day, giving everyone a brief reprieve from the day’s activities.  However, consciousness kept tapping at her and she started to comprehend the comforting heat that surrounded her body.  A good portion of it came from the man who was wrapped around her.  His muscular leg was tangled with hers, his left hand cupping her breast and the moist heat of his breath burned on the back of her neck.  They fit perfectly together and it was the most lovely feeling Ginny could ever hope for.

Harry had been so sweet the night before.  While she soaked in the tub, he had returned to the glade at the Burrow and set everything to normal.  However, one thing he saved for her and the scent still permeated his room this morning.  

  _Drying herself off, she could smell them and when she finally walked back into the bedroom, there were bouquets of roses everywhere._

_Harry lie on the bed, naked from the waist up, holding one of the red ones in his hands.  The soft flannel pajama pants did little to conceal the slender hips and tight arse she knew lay beneath.  Despite her discomfort, she was tempted to strip him and have another go._

_Holding the towel against her chest, she walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge._

_“You’ve been busy.”  She offered trying to determine if he had actually brought back every single rose._

_“Well, didn’t want to waste all the flowers and I thought you might enjoy them here.”_

_Touching a portion without thorns, she took the stem from his hand and lifted the soft scarlet petals to her face, a strange sort of serenity wafting over her as she inhaled_

_“Do you feel better?”  Harry crawled up to his knees behind her and, sweeping her hair aside, placed a tender kiss on her still moist shoulder._

_“Yes, a bit.”_

_His arms encircled her from behind and he rested his chin on her shoulder.  “I’m so sorry it had to hurt.  I promise to never hurt you again.”_

_“It’s alright, Harry.  It’s one of those rights of passage.”  She reached back, caressing his cheek and he immediately turned in and kissed her palm.  Unclasping his arms, he took her left hand and held it up, probably assuring himself that she had indeed said yes and they both examined the sparkling diamond on her hand._

_“I can’t wait to show everyone.  This ring is fabulous…it’s…it’s so big.  It must have cost you a fortune.”_

_“You’re worth every knut, Gin.  I promise to buy you lots of beautiful things, if you want them.  We’ll get a house and you can decorate it, ‘cause I’m shite at that kind of stuff, and we’ll take holidays now and then to fun and exotic locations and then whenever you feel ready…maybe a baby or two?”  Unable to see him, she still sensed his reservations in asking this question as if he wasn’t sure if she was agreeable to this or not._

_“Just two?”  She turned her head toward him, still resting on her shoulder._

_“I’ll take as many as you want to give me.”  His eyes met hers.  “I love you, Ginny.  So much.”_

_“I love you, too, Harry.”  Twisting around to face him, she dropped the towel and they began another round of passionate kissing.  He reserved his gentle caresses for her upper body, the source of her now lost virginity still sore.  At some point, each of them began to yawn and soon they found themselves under the blanket._

Ginny knew she had a busy day ahead of her.  Even though she wanted to enjoy a lie in with her semi-naked, incredibly sexy fiancé, other matters demanded her attention.  Listening to the rain, she frowned, hoping it wouldn’t put a damper on their festivities for the evening.  Wiggling her hips to the side, Harry’s grip only tightened and drew her back as he grumbled something in her ear.  Her shoulders slumped in defeat as a smile enveloped her face.

“Harry, love.  Let go.”

Gripping his arm, she lifted it from her breast and attempted to move her upper half instead, scooting her shoulders to the side.  Not wishing to wake him just yet, she carefully slid her leg from under his and managed to stand up.  Her eyes delighted in a breakfast of tousled black hair, six-pack abs and an erection that, while only partial, still looked big to her.

_You are one lucky girl, Ginny Weasley.  Hmm._

She shook her head, still in awe of how she had managed to win this brilliant man’s heart.  As quietly as possible, she opened the drawer and found some items she had left here, just for such an occasion.  The thought crossed her mind that she might have to start bringing more of her things here.  She had a funny suspicion that Harry was going to want her to stay with him much more often now.  Somehow she didn’t think her parents would mind as much, now that they were officially engaged.

She bent over and slipped on a fresh pair of knickers and then found her red bra on the floor and slipped it on as well, finally pulling on her denims and a light blue jumper. Dressing quickly, she glanced over to check on Harry and discovered a pair of bright green eyes open and looking a bit hungry.

“Can you do that again?” he spoke clear and soft.

“What?”

“Dress in front of me, or undress.  I like that as well.”

“You do, do you?”  She raised a playful eyebrow and approached the bed, Harry now sitting up along the edge, just a corner of sheet covering his lap.

She rubbed her nose against his.  “Well, if you get to watch me dress, then I get to do this.”  Her hand gripped his now much firmer member right through the sheet and gave him a couple of long strokes.  Then she kissed his cheek and released him, turning to exit the room.

Harry let out an exasperated groan and fell back onto the bed, his arms out at his sides.

She smiled all the way down the hall, hearing him call out.  “You flirt!!”

*** 

Harry wasted no time, announcing he was going to grab a quick shower and that she had better not leave.  Within minutes, the shower returned him to a much calmer state and he stepped into his denims, not bothering to zip them.  His goal was to get to Ginny as soon as possible.  Slipping his arms into a white button down, he grabbed his shoes and socks and shuffled down the hallway.

Ginny was seated at the table, lazily stirring a cup of tea with her diamond-ladened hand as the other skimmed the Daily Prophet.  Approaching the table, Harry dropped his shoes, preparing to pull out a chair when she glanced in his direction.  The spoon clanked against her cup and Harry jerked at the noise, looking for the cause.

“Harry!  Are you trying to kill me or what?”

“What’d I do?”  Harry was genuinely confused until he witnessed her openly gawk at the area below his waist.

“You expect me to go about my day and get anything accomplished when you come in here flaunting that sexy body?”

He smiled and started to button his shirt.

“You should talk.”

“I’m not sitting here half-naked in the kitchen!”

“Who’s half-naked in the kitchen?”  The voice was not their own and both of them froze, realizing a guest had probably just Apparated into the flat.  And considering only a small handful of people could actually do that, it was a pretty sure guess that Hermione would appear around the corner at any second.

Harry did a quick zip and sat down to pull on his socks even as Hermione walked in, intentionally shielding her face with a hand.  “I’m not looking.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You can look, Hermione.”  Harry added, his shirt still open, but looking presentable enough for his close friends.

Dropping her hand, Hermione’s eyes lit up upon seeing Ginny at the table and she rushed over, grabbing her left hand to examine the evidence of Harry’s proposal.

“Oh, Gin!  It’s beautiful.  Congratulations!”  Harry watched Ginny glow with happiness as Hermione gave her a big hug.

Hermione quickly turned her attention and smile to Harry and nearly dove at him as he stood up, about to tuck his shirttails in.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  “Congratulations, Harry!”

“Thanks.  So I assume Ron told you the news?”  He finally managed to push the hem of his shirt into his waistband and grinned, ready to face the day.

Her voice changed suddenly, taking on a much more serious tone.  “Yes.  He came over last night and told me.”  Hermione pulled out a chair and joined Ginny at the table.  “Did you pick a date?

Ginny glanced at him, her warm smile confirming once again that he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.  This beautiful girl was actually going to marry him.  He supposed that there would be quite a few decisions to be made in the coming weeks or months, but that would be the topic of future conversations – ones that he looked forward to with gusto.

“No.  We haven’t really discussed it yet.”  Ginny replied, finally pulling her eyes off him.  “Enough about us!”  She gently slapped the table.  “We have big plans for tonight.  Have you been practicing?”

Hermione’s eyes shifted back and forth from Harry to Ginny, obviously unsure if he knew of their plans for the evening.

She teared up and finally managed to squeak out.  “Yes.”

“Hermione!  What’s the matter?”

She looked at Harry and then back at Ginny.  “I think I’ve lost him!”

“What happened?”  Ginny asked and Harry, although moving into the kitchen discreetly, couldn’t help but overhear as she began to explain her exchange with Ron.  It became very clear that Hermione was simply panicked at expressing her sexuality with Ron and he took it to mean that she didn’t love him.  It was another of the famous Weasley-Granger rows, except without the yelling.  Harry felt a bit embarrassed hearing his best friend discussing his other best friend and especially in such intimate terms.  Luckily, she didn’t use specifics, but enough that he got the idea.

“I do love him, Ginny.”  She even turned to Harry as he walked back into the room.  “Harry, you know that I love him, right?”

He nodded, feeling really bad for his friend and wanting to put this right.  “Hermione, I think he simply got a thought in his head and just let it get the best of him.  You know how Ron has always lacked confidence, especially when it came to girls.  You’re the only one he’s ever wanted.”

“I know and I want him too.”  Hermione turned back to Ginny at the table.  “Gin, I have to fix this.  I have to make it perfectly clear to him that I want him.  I need to get over this…whatever it is that’s keeping me from being with him.  I need to feel sexy tonight, both for him and for me.  We need to go all out, alright?  This is it, the new Hermione Granger shows up tonight!”

“Great!  Well, we have some stops to make this afternoon and I’d really like to rehearse a bit more, if that’s okay.”

“You’re my guru.  If you say so, then I’m all for it.”

Harry had casually excused himself to the kitchen again to put the breakfast dishes in the sink, trying to appear unobtrusive during this little exchange.  He knew that Ginny had been working with Hermione on something, but she hadn’t felt inclined to inform him of the details.  The truth of the matter was that he had kept her rather occupied so it wasn’t really her fault that he was in the dark.

“Harry?”  Her voice was much closer and he snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

Grabbing his hand, Ginny turned him for a semi-private moment of conversation.  “I need you to do me a favor today.”

“Talk to Ron, yeah, I know.”  

She nodded, “Besides that…” keeping her voice low, she also instructed.  “Take Ron out shopping.  Get him some nice clothes for the club tonight and tell him to get a haircut and a good shave, okay?  Can you do that?”

“You trust me to do that?”

“Of course.”  She swatted his arse playfully and returned to her girlfriend who was dabbing her eyes and puffing out breaths in an apparent attempt to increase her resolve or steady her nerves or something.  Harry wasn’t sure.

 *** 

The girls made plans to head out after lunch, but first Ginny insisted on stopping back at the Burrow.  Her mother would want to see her new ring and Ginny was so excited, she wanted to tell every living soul in existence about her engagement.  Harry felt obliged to come along, even though he knew what the reaction would be from his soon-to-be in-laws.

Apparating into the parlor, Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen, expecting to find her Mum cooking breakfast.  Hermione had returned to her own flat with a promise to meet Ginny at noon.

Harry had to blink several times, sure his glasses required a new prescription.  Mrs. Weasley, still in her dressing gown, was pressed up against the pantry door and Mr. Weasley was apparently the one doing the pressing, his head buried in her neck.  She giggled.  Somehow the sound of Mrs. Weasley giggling was just wrong.  A light-hearted laugh perhaps, but a giggle?

Harry couldn’t help but blush on their behalf, feeling embarrassed for having caught them canoodling in the kitchen.

“Mother!”  Ginny stood in shock as Mr. Weasley stepped back, clearing his throat.

“Ah!  Good morning, darling.  Harry!  Wonderful to see both of you!”  He adjusted his dressing gown as he walked to the cabinet to retrieve a plate.

Mrs. Weasley’s face was nearly as fuchsia as her hair which she was pushing back into place.  However, it was only a split second later that the onslaught began.

“Oh, sweetheart!!”  Ginny found herself immobile, her mother’s embrace halting all movement.

Harry braced himself, for he knew that he was next and sure enough, Mrs. Weasley’s hands cupped his face as tears filled her eyes.  “Harry.”  That was all she managed before turning toward her husband, who true to form already had the hanky in hand and was holding it out for her.

“Molly.”  He wrapped a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulder as she dabbed at her eyes, his other hand reaching out to shake Harry’s hand.  “Congratulations, son.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Ah, no more sir around here.  It’s Dad now, or you can call me Arthur if you prefer.”

“I kind of like Dad, if that’s alright.”  Molly let out another sob and Mr. Weasley bent down to kiss Ginny on the head.  

“Congratulations, Gin-Gin.”

With a sniffle, Molly finally managed to get out a sentence, however the pitch increased as she went.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just that you’ve always been like another son to me and now it’s like having two of my children getting engaged and growing up and oh….”  The hanky returned to her face and Mr. Weasley steered her to a chair with a skill that only came from thirty one years of practice.

“Mother, look!”  Ginny sat down beside her and stuck out her hand.  “Look at the incredible ring Harry gave me.”  Harry was sure that Ginny’s intention was to cheer her mother up or at the very least distract her from the emotional derailment, but Molly took one look and wailed again.

“Don’t mind her, son.  She’s just happy for both of you as am I.  I know you’ll take great care of my little girl, Harry.  I’m thrilled to have you officially join our family.”

Harry felt a wash of affection float over him, one that up until now had been reserved for only Ginny, Ron and Hermione.  He bent over Mrs. Weasley’s chair, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind, speaking softly in her ear.

“Please don’t cry, Mum.  We’re not leaving you, I promise.  We’ll still be around all the time.”

“I know.”  With a final strong sniff and a few more dabs, Mrs. Weasley regained her composure and Ginny launched into her explanation of the day’s activities.  Before anyone left, Mrs. Weasley made it clear that there would be a family dinner on Sunday and a small engagement party.  This brought up two issues.  One, parties were never small at the Weasley house and two, he was going to have to face Ginny’s five other brothers with the news on Sunday.  His stomach churned for a moment, but then he glanced over at his beautiful Ginny who smiled warmly and he forgot any of his worries, at least for today.

Harry was on an assignment to get Ron ready for the club that night.  Ginny was taking care of Hermione and they were supposed to meet at his flat tonight around six o’clock.  

*** 

Around noon Hermione appeared at the Burrow, meeting Ginny as requested.  Ginny offered a quick goodbye to whoever was present in the household and they both Apparated away.

“Alright, Ginny.  Now, what are you doing to me today?  I have the dress, the shoes, the dance and the attitude.  What else is there?”  Ginny led the way down a sidewalk.

“A makeover, of course.”

“A what?”

“Just come on.”  She grabbed her sleeve and pulled her along, entering a place called ‘Flora’s Flaunt It’ just on the outskirts of Muggle London.

Ginny spoke discreetly as they entered.  “This place serves a mixed clientele, if you know what I mean.”

Behind a high counter top, a perfectly coiffed lady offered them welcome and Ginny told her they had an appointment.

A minute later, a cheerful girl with long red hair appeared and Hermione interjected.  “Ah, well I can see why _you_ like this place.”

“Ginny!  Lovely to see you.  So, this is the friend you told me about?” the lady asked.

“Yes.  This is Hermione.  We have a really big evening tonight and she needs to look extra special.”

The beauty attendant took a slow walk around Hermione.  “So, tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Um…it’s pink.”  To Hermione this seemed like enough of a description, but Ginny puffed out an exasperated sounding breath and jumped in.

“It’s hot pink, strapless and plunges just a bit in the front so, I think having her hair down would be best.”  Hermione nodded in agreement, allowing Ginny to make these all important decisions for her.  However, Ginny piped in with an apparent change of heart.

“However”  Both girls looked at her.  “I have a better idea.”  Ginny’s face held amusement and a bit of mischief causing Hermione’s heart to pick up the pace just slightly.

“What?” Hermione asked somewhat slowly, sounding quite leery of any changes to the plan.  She was having a hard enough time coping with the idea of being sexy and dancing in front of Ron tonight wearing that pink dress.  Having more to deal with certainly wasn’t appealing at the moment.

The gleam in Ginny’s eye made her even more nervous.  “Do you trust me?”

“That depends.  Are you going to have me doing a strip tease or something?”

Ginny kicked out that hip, resting her hand on her waist and huffed.  “Of course not.  I just think you should surprise Ron a bit more.  Dress conservatively for dinner.  Put your hair up and then later he’ll really be ‘wowed’ you know?”

If ever a word fit into the life dictionary of Hermione Granger, it was ‘conservative’ and she immediately felt right at home with the idea.  “I only have the one dress.”

“That’s okay.  I have something that will work.”  Ginny motioned toward the attendant and gave Hermione a gentle push.

“Alright.  Let’s head back and get started.”  They followed her back into the establishment.

Hermione felt a little out of her element and definitely out of her IQ.  This place seemed to be swimming in women who apparently had nothing better to do than get their nails done and glamour themselves all day.  She considered that there probably wasn’t one collective brain amongst them, except for Ginny, of course.

They were led into the rear of the building, around a split wall into a larger back room where she immediately noticed a change.  This was for the magical clientele as wands were being used on several women to add glamours and hair was being done the same way.

“So, do you want this all done with magic or a little mix of Muggle pampering?”  The red-haired lady tilted her head, a hand on her hip waiting for an answer.

Ginny led the charge.  “Oh, I love getting my hair and nails done the Muggle way.  It’s much more relaxing, don’t you think Hermione?”

Hermione nodded her head, still not sure what was to come.  However, within minutes both ladies had been shampoo’d, trimmed and highlighted.  They were told to sit down in a special row of seats to wait for the manicurist.  Only seconds later, the gentle chatter and light music floating through the room was interrupted.

“OUCH!”

Both girls looked at each other, wondering what kind of torture some poor girl was going through on the other side of the wall.  The conversation continued and they couldn’t help but overhear.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but this is rather thick hair.  I’ve tried every potion and spell I can think of to remove it.  I don’t think you have any other choice but to wax.”

“Fine!  Just do it quickly and get it over with!”

A third voice entered into the conversation.  “Are you sure?  Your back looks awfully red.”

“Well, I’m not going out tonight dressed in a turtleneck and long trousers!”

Another few seconds and a loud rip.

“OW!”

Hermione and Ginny actually winced and gave each other sour looks as they continued their unintentional eaves dropping.

“Well, I have most of it off, except for your arse.  Maybe you want to just leave that and let it go away naturally.”

“No!  I have a big night at the club tonight.  I have to look my absolute best and I can’t have this…this….argh!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A pause and then another rip.

“AH!  For the love of Merlin!”

“May I ask how you got this?”

“Well, I can’t prove it, but I think someone slipped a potion in my drink the other night at a party.  I think the little bitch was upset that I danced with her boyfriend.”

Ginny turned back to Hermione, both of them in shock realizing who was on the other side of the wall.  Hermione considered that they should actually feel a bit guilty for putting the girl through this, but suddenly both of them erupted in silent laughter, covering their mouths as their eyes watered up in delight.

The third voice cut in again.  “I _told_ you not to mess with Granger.” 

Rip.  “OUCH!  ENOUGH!  Enough.”

“But Ma’am, you have two big strips down your arse right now.  We can’t just leave it.”

“Look, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit as it is!”

“Well, you could wear a thong so that nothing rubs on that area.  Maybe a slightly looser skirt would help?”

“Fine, fine.  Just leave me.”

They heard a door click shut and some more mumbles.  Hermione pointed her wand at the wall, amplifying the sound just a bit as the girls leaned in, now very interested in the conversation.

“Rhonda, I can take care of Granger.  She’s just an insecure, know-it-all, teacher’s pet that couldn’t win a man if she tried.  I mean that hair is a disaster and she dresses like my grandmother!  Besides, I found this great charm that I’m going to put on her shoes tonight.  When she starts to dance, her feet will trip and stumble all over and she’ll look like the total geek that she is!”

“I don’t know, Brittany.  She’s pretty smart and I wouldn’t put it past her to get you back big time.  Besides, if you get caught using magic in front of a Muggle…”

“Don’t’ worry, I won’t get caught.  The club is half Wizarding anyway.  Besides, it won’t matter.  Between Granger’s loose reputation and her making a fool of herself, Ronald will be mine before the night is over.”

“If his sister is there, you’d better be careful.  I mean _look_ at yourself.”

“I’m not worried.  I bought this great potion at that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes place.  It makes you say everything the exact opposite of what you want to say.  Supposedly, it’s a derivative of Veritaserum so, you’re compelled to speak, but you say yes when you mean no.”  She laughed.  “Isn’t that great?  It’s supposed to be a party gag.  I’m going to slip a bit of it into her drink.  Then I’ll just watch her babble herself out of a boyfriend and the best part is that her own brothers’ potion will have done it to her!”

“Oh, Brit.  That’s too cruel.”

“It’s great, isn’t it?”

They heard the door open again and both picked up a nearby magazine, holding it up to block their faces as Brittany and Rhonda walked out of the room.

*** 

After leaving the Burrow, Harry made a bee-line for Ron’s flat.  Even though telling Ginny’s parents first had been the polite and appropriate thing to do, Harry was looking forward to confirming it with Ron.  Obviously, he had been there, but he was still bubbling over with excitement and being that Ron was going to be his brother-in-law, he couldn’t wait to see him.

Apparating into the foyer, he called out.  “Ron?  You ‘round, mate?”

He heard footsteps coming from the bedrooms and soon Ron’s tall form appeared, clad only in denims, a towel running over his head.

“Hey, mate!”  Ron cheered.

“Just out of the shower, huh?”  Harry welcomed himself in and made his way toward Ron and the dining table that sat just off the kitchen.

Ron walked over to a small folded stack of shirts that sat in a partially filled laundry basket on the counter.  He pulled one out and quickly drew it over his head, tossing the small towel over the edge of the basket.

“Yeah.  So?  I guess it’s official?” Ron smiled, his hands on his hips.  Harry offered his brightest smile and Ron walked up to him, slapping him on the shoulder.  “Congratulations, mate.  I guess I should say, brother?”

“Well, you’ve always been my brother, now it will just be legal and all.”  Harry’s stupid grin continued to keep a hold on him, his cheeks almost in pain from the happiness that poured through him.  His greatest wish was for his best mate to have the same stupid grin and he decided to try and tackle the subject of the previous night’s misunderstanding.

“I want to take you out today and find something to wear for the club.  Maybe we can get a haircut and a shave while we’re out, what do you think?”

Ron’s shoulders appeared to slump and he trudged over to the kitchen counter, pulling a glass from the cabinet.  “Harry, I’m not sure if I’m going tonight.”

“Of course you are.  We’ve been planning all week.  Besides, Ginny and Hermione have something special planned.”

Pulling the fridge open, Ron found the pumpkin juice and screwed the cap off the jar.  “Harry, Hermione and I had a bit of a row last night.”

“About what?”  Harry was dying to know Ron’s side of the story to try and figure out what had truly happened between them.

With a now full glass, Ron pulled out a chair and plopped down at the small table, rubbing a hand through his fringe.  Harry kept leaning against the kitchen counter as Ron relayed the gist of their discussion.  Almost immediately, Harry could see why Ron had come to his conclusions, even though he knew them to be invalid.

“Ron, she does love you.  She told me herself.”

“She did?  When?”  Ron drained the last of his juice and sat back.

“This morning, alright?  She’s just really afraid, not of you, but she’s afraid of so many other things.”

“Like what?  What does she have to be afraid of?  I’m not pushing her into anything.  We’ve been friends forever.  I mean…”

“Mate, she’s worried about what you are going to think of her…you know…her body and stuff like that.  Girls are like that.  She’s worried that she doesn’t know what to do or how to react.  She thinks you’ll somehow get the wrong impression of her and she’s terrified of the rumor mill starting back up again at work.”

“I already told her that I would never speak about us to anyone!”  Ron threw both arms over his head, bringing it down to rest on the kitchen table with a deep sigh.

Harry walked over, resting his hand on Ron’s shoulder.  “Listen, she was really upset this morning but she was also determined to show you that she really did want to be with you.  You really need to come tonight, okay?  Trust me.”

Ron tipped his head to glance at Harry.  “If you say so, mate.”

“Come on.  Throw on some shoes and let’s go out for a while.”

Ron agreed, still looking rather unsure of the whole situation, but at least agreeable.  Harry grabbed his cloak, tossing Ron’s to him and they both Apparated away to do a bit of shopping and prep work for the coming night.

*** 

They had agreed to meet for dinner at six fifteen and Harry had made reservations at a nice place, but not extravagant.  Harry had spoken with Ginny about the whole Hermione situation and they agreed that Ginny would bring Hermione to meet up with the boys at the restaurant.

Ron was feeling quite nervous as he paced in front of the restaurant.  He hadn’t spoken to Hermione since the night before and if what Harry said was true, then he had obviously made some wrong assumptions.  A combination of guilt and pain coursed through his heart as he waited for them to arrive.  The afternoon had been spent mentally rehearsing everything that might happen with her this evening and he had planned responses to every possible scenario he could come up with.

Harry had insisted on him getting something new to wear and he hoped that Hermione would like the blue silk button down that hung over the pin-stripe trousers.  They had even gone out for haircuts and a shave and Ron was sporting a rather different shorter cut.  There was still quite a bit there to run your fingers through, but the barber had added something that made it spike up a little bit on the top.  Ron wasn’t too sure about it, but Harry assured him it looked really sharp and that Hermione would love it.  He even put on some cologne so determined was he to make a lasting impression.

If Hermione was truly worried about her image, he was going to make sure that she knew how absolutely stunning she was in his eyes.  A soft pop broke his concentration as he turned to see Ginny leading the way toward them.  His eyes searched for Hermione – taking in his girl’s appearance as she unclasped her cloak.  She wore a simple blue dress.  It wasn’t revealing or short, in fact it was nothing like the black dress she wore for the cocktail party, but she still looked nice.  Her hair as up and she wore a simple gold necklace around her neck, a similar gold bracelet on her wrist and rather low-heeled shoes.

He waited patiently and finally matched her gaze.  She looked hesitant for a moment, but Ron noticed Ginny nudge her and she turned on a smile and walked up to him. 

“Wow, Ron, you look brilliant.  I love the shirt and the haircut.”  She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“You look great, too, Hermione.”  

Ron truly wanted to pull her aside, to have a little heart to heart and work out this misunderstanding, but Harry was ushering them in to the restaurant as their reservations were for six fifteen and it was already a minute after.

Still Ron did his best, pressing his hand to her back as he held the door for her and pulling out her chair as she sat.  Part of him felt like he was back at square one.  Even after the amazing times they had experienced in the past few days, that vision of prim and proper Hermione jumped right back to the forefront.  Ron noticed that his mannerisms towards her felt like the old him and not the new ‘just got a brilliant knob job’ him.  He couldn’t take his focus off of her, only wishing to relay his feelings to her with his eyes, if that was all he had at his disposal.

Dinner ran smoothly.  Despite Ron’s feelings about his own love life, he had to be happy for Ginny and Harry.  They both appeared ecstatic and much of the conversation dealt with wedding plans and their future together.  Hermione lightened up a bit during this part of the conversation, but overall she looked really nervous in Ron’s opinion.  She rarely met his eyes and when she did, it was usually only for a second before avoiding them again.  He managed a couple of smiles, trying to put her at ease, but he couldn’t help that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had somehow lost everything he had gained.

After dinner, they decided to walk the few blocks that would take them to the club.  Ginny reminded them along the way that although there were members of the magical community that frequented the place, it was still largely Muggle and they should tuck their wands away.  They did so and as soon as Hermione’s hands were free, Ron grabbed one and laced his fingers with hers.  Ginny was chatting somewhat animatedly with Harry about a previous trip to the club, reminding him of some very bizarre sounding characters that had been there and how amusing it had been to watch them dance.

Coming around the corner of the block, Ron first noticed a bright red awning that hung over the sidewalk and a line of about ten people who were all waiting to get in.  Ginny led the way and they entered the queue.  Ron kept hold of Hermione’s hand, even when she turned at a funny angle to him.  He’d rather have a twisted wrist than let go of her at the moment.  He kept looking around for a place where they could talk, but as soon as they walked through the entrance, that idea was crushed by the throngs of people that filled the place.

Overall, the club was quite dark, with dim lighting only in the main entrance.  There were tropical looking plants in various corners and a beautiful pond in the center that was lit with different colored lights to make the water glow in various shades.  The ceiling was very high and then Ron noticed the balcony or catwalk that surrounded the dance floor.

Ginny led the way and they got lucky finding a part booth, part table that was almost directly on the dance floor.  It was one of the few left and she ran ahead to snatch it.  Before he could even make it to the table, both he and Harry were stopped by several young ladies, who, based on their wide-eyed expressions and gestures toward Harry’s scar, were definitely witches and very much aware of who they were.  Still holding his hand, Hermione stood to the side as the girls tried to start up a conversation with both of the boys, each Ooooing and Ahhhing over the ‘heroes in their presence’ and could they have a dance later or maybe an autograph.  Ron wasn’t nearly as accustomed to this type of attention as Harry was, for his best mate seemed to smile and take it all in stride.  Ron just wanted to find a quiet corner with Hermione, kiss her and make her forget all her worries.

Luckily, Harry took over and Ron finished escorting Hermione to the table.  Ginny had already seated herself and was watching Harry deal with a few of his many admirers.  She smiled the whole time and Ron allowed himself a small chuckle at the way she watched him, completely adoring and perfectly content with his role in society.

Hermione still wasn’t saying much and Ron decided that perhaps some drinks would help.

“Would you two like something to drink?”

Ginny piped up first.  “I’d love a Rum and Coke.”

“A what?”  He had never heard of this, but supposed she knew what she was asking for.

“It’s a Muggle drink.  It’s good, you should try it.”  He nodded and turned to Hermione.

“Hermione?”

“I’ll have a glass of white wine, thank you.”

“White wine and a Rum and Coke coming up.”  He marched off toward the bar.  Luckily Harry had reminded him to exchange some galleons for Muggle money and he pulled it out of his pocket, making sure he had it ready.

*** 

Hermione was beyond nervousness, she was absolutely terrified of what was coming up, but a small part of her was also excited and anxious to see Ron’s face when she came out, literally.  

After a very emotional evening, she had been psyching herself up all day, with Ginny’s help of course.  The whole week had been leading up to this moment and she wasn’t going to chicken out now.  Trying to get over her prudish sense of conservatism had been hard at first, but dressing up at the cocktail party had been a real eye-opener as far as her sense of self was concerned.  

No matter how sexy she dressed on the outside, her inner sexuality was the last demon to battle.  If she could trust in herself and in Ron, then they could become the couple she always wanted them to be.  It was time to grow up, to put some faith in herself and in him and his love for her.  This had been her inner battle all day and continued to churn in her stomach as she glanced at him, worrying about his reaction and yet, hoping for a miracle.

The club was really nice, as Ginny had promised and Ron looked absolutely fantastic.  She didn’t want to go overboard in her greeting, but the silk shirt and trousers were really smashing and his hair was updated, bringing a new light to his eyes.  She even recognized the scent of cologne on him when she kissed his cheek and knew he had gone out of his way to look nice for her as well.

Hermione sat quite distracted by her own thoughts, before her girlfriend got up to leave.

“I’m going to talk with the DJ about our little surprise for later.”  Ginny winked at her and Hermione felt another rush of nervous excitement course through her and she glanced at Harry, wondering if he recognized her anxiety.

It appeared that Harry had finally managed to placate his admirers and found the booth, sliding in next to her.  “You alright, Hermione?”  He must have noticed something.

“Yes, I’m fine.  This is a lovely place.”  Her nails began tapping on the table.  Actually, her nails had been tapping on the table for a while now and it just finally struck her that she was doing it.  She quickly pulled her hands into her lap.

_Well, that’s pretty obvious, Hermione.  No wonder Harry asked if you were alright._

Harry scooted a bit closer just as the music started up.  It was quite loud and he had to lean in rather close to her in able for her to hear him.  “You do know that you’re supposed to be having fun, right?”

He smiled pulling back and she leaned in this time to reply.  “I am having fun.”

This time he reached under the table and took her still trembling hand.  “Why are you so nervous then?  Is it whatever you and Ginny have cooked up?”

She eyed him, considering how much she wanted to impart.  Best friend or not, when it came to affairs of the heart and specially those of their mutual friend, Ron, Hermione was very aware that discussions were often shared.

Finally, she leaned in again.  “Yes, I’m a bit nervous about what Ginny and I have ‘cooked up’ as you put it.  She’s got me doing a very public thing tonight and you know me, Harry I’m more of a private person.”

“Then don’t do it, if it makes you so nervous.”  Harry nudged her in an obvious attempt to cheer her up.

“No, I need to do this for me and for…”  She was about to say for Ron, but paused as her eyes focused on the group of people who had just entered the club.  Their hated nemesis Brittany was on Evan Walters’ arm.  Rhonda and several other girls in tow as they walked toward a table at the far side of the dance floor.  Evan was looking very pleased at having the beauty as his date.  She bit her lip, almost feeling sorry for the poor bloke for she knew he was just a pawn in this little game and would probably be hurt or at the very least irritated by the end of the evening.  

Brittany was dressed in her usual, ‘tramp du jour’ attire and Hermione internally shook her head at the ludicrous display of skin.  Then recalling their overheard conversation from this afternoon, Hermione smiled, realizing the game was afoot and she wasn’t about to let Ginny down or to let Brittany try and steal her Ron away.

Harry must not have noticed for he leaned back.  “For you and for what?  Or, maybe I should say for who?”

Snapping back from her ruminations, she observed Harry’s raised brows waiting for her response.  Hermione knew she needn’t reply, for Harry knew darn well who she was doing this for and she made sure her expression told him that.  

“Hermione, you know that you are an absolutely beautiful woman and Ron is crazy about you.  You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable just to prove yourself worthy of his attentions.  He likes you just as you are.”

“I know he likes me, but I’m tired of putting up with the likes of that.”  She gestured toward Brittany’s table where the leggy brunette was fawning all over Evan like Gilderoy Lockhart in a mirror factory.

She leaned in and spoke directly in Harry’s ear.  “Harry, I need to come out of my shell and demonstrate to myself, Ron and the rest of the world that I’m not afraid to take what I want.  And what I want right now is Ron.”

“Well, he’ll be thrilled to hear that and I’ll be thrilled for both of you.  I love you two and I want both of you to be happy.  So, you do whatever it is you have to and just know that I’m behind you one hundred and ten percent.”

He smiled and with that Hermione’s arms reached around his neck for an encouraging hug.  Harry was always there for them and she loved him too, and felt just a bit relieved to know he was behind her.  “Thank you, Harry.”

“Ow!”  Hermione cried out. 

“What is it?”  Harry asked, her arms still around him.

“I’m caught on something.”  It took a second for her to figure out the cause, but her earring and bracelet had managed to hook themselves together and her other hand reached up trying to detangle herself.  Harry remained stationary, his arms around her back and she was sure he wasn’t moving for fear of causing her more pain.

“My earring is caught on my wrist.  Just be still.”  She scooted a bit closer to him, trying to free herself from the links.  

“How about if I just duck down.”  Harry attempted to do just that, but jerked to a stop.

“Ow!  I think you’ve go my hair in the mix as well.”

“Sorry!”  She continued to struggle, unable to see the problem and trying to feel her way out of this predicament.  “Well, that’s the last time I wear jewelry!”

“Don’t blame your bracelet for public displays of affection for me, Hermione.”

She knew he was grinning, his sarcastic tone giving it clearly away.  Even while trying to concentrate on the tangled mess, she was forced to smile with his comment.  A second later, she had to laugh when he continued.

“You had better stop breathing so hard in my ear, Hermione!”

“Harry!  Knock it off.  This isn’t some sick and twisted way for me to come on to you.”

“Shucks!”  She recognized his attempt to make her feel better and indeed, it was working for now she had a pleasant flush, both from the struggle to free themselves and from Harry’s sexy innuendo.

Finally, the link released and she slowly pulled her head back, now able to see the way Harry’s hair was caught in the tiny chain.  She also couldn’t miss his wide smile and she grinned back and rolled her eyes at his antics.  With another twist, her wrist came free and she let her arms drop and slid back on the bench seat to place a more appropriate distance between them.

Hermione joked, looking at her wrist.  “Who needs a wand when you have the killer bracelet, huh?”

Hermione started to unclasp it, not wishing to have a repeat of the same incident, but Harry put a hand on her to stop.  “No, Hermione.  Leave it on.  It’s very pretty on you and besides, Ron’s too tall for this to happen again.”

Just then Ron returned with the drinks and Ginny returned from her little planning session.  A new song had just come on and as Ron was still standing up, having delivered the drinks, Ginny grabbed her brother’s hand and pulled.  “Come on and let’s show them how it’s done, ey?”

He nearly whinged out a reply.  “Ginny.”

“Oh, come on.  Please?”

“Do you mind?” Ron turned back to Hermione.

“Of course not, go ahead.  I need to powder my nose, anyway.”

With that Ginny and Ron took off for the dance floor.  

*** 

Brittany spied her competition almost the second she got to her seat.  She might have her arm around Evan, but her thoughts and libido were definitely focused on the tall redhead at the bar and his soon-to-be-ex girlfriend seated with the ‘famous’ Harry Potter.

Evan said something and she did her usual smile, bending forward to press her chest out in response.  It worked every time.  She was very aware of her abilities to sway the opposite sex with her natural gifts.  That wasn’t entirely accurate, but thank Merlin for magical breast enhancements and padded bras.  It really didn’t matter, for once she sunk her claws into her prey and her thighs around their waist, they’d do just about anything she wanted.

It was exhilarating. The power she could wield over men.  Never had her charms failed her, every man eventually giving in to her seductions: and there were quite a few.  Sure, they didn’t love her, but it certainly felt like they did when driving her up against a wall.  Who needed the complications of a relationship when sex was readily available with no strings attached?  Besides, what a story she would have to tell after landing Ron Weasley, hero of the wizarding wars, mate to Harry Potter and defender of the good side.  She might even accidentally forget her contraception charm this time and see what happened.  Children might be a bit inconvenient, but think of the notoriety.  She’d be forever linked to him and he probably had a good deal of money from all the rewards following Voldemort’s fall.  This was looking better and better all the time.

Her backside was still quite sore from the afternoon’s waxing, but she had done as suggested and worn a thong and a very loose, flowy skirt.  A couple of cooling and pain charms later, she was being cautious to sit more on her hip.  Luckily, the rest of the hair had either fallen out or been waxed off.  Only her arse retained the last couple of strips of course white and brown hair.

Still, she had things to do if she wanted the evening to turn out as hoped.  The music started pumping and she was just trying to think of a way to excuse herself from Evan so that she could start putting her plan into action.  

_Oh, this it just too simple!_

There across the dance floor, Hermione Granger had her arms wrapped around Harry Potter, true to form, throwing herself at him.  If she had experienced any guilt for spreading rumors about Granger’s loose nature, which she hadn’t, it would have made her feel all better.  There she was playing right into Brittany’s hands and she quickly turned to Evan.

“Oh, Evan, darling.”  Evan had been chatting with Rhonda, but seemed drawn toward Brittany as soon as she spoke.

“Hmm?”

“Remember what I told you about the Granger girl?”

Evan’s brows arched.  “Yeah.”

“Well look.”  She pointed quite obviously to the entangled couple.  The smirk on her face grew into a delightful grin as she watched Evan’s reaction.

“But…but…he told me that she was his sister.”  He looked to her for some kind of explanation.

“If you mean, are they related?  No.  If you mean, does he treat her like a sister?  Well, look for yourself.”

“So, that’s the way it is, huh?”

*** 

This simply couldn’t be.  She’d known him for how long?  No, she’d even seen him at the Yule Ball fourth year.  Ron Weasley did not dance, at least not like that!

Hermione couldn’t keep her mouth from falling open.  Obviously, Ginny knew how to dance and Hermione even recognized some of the same moves she had learned earlier in the week and had been practicing night after night.  But, Ron?  He was actually moving.

Her pulse quickened as she tipped her wine glass back, consuming a sizeable amount of alcohol.

_He’s actually got rhythm!  Oh, my word, he looks kind of  sexy doing that._

Harry must have thought something was amusing because he nudged her out of her trance, a full tilt smile bearing right at her.

“Hermione, you’d better close your mouth.  I think you might drool and it’s not very becoming.”

“Wha?  What?”

Indeed, she was about to drool, but caught it just in time.  Ron told her he couldn’t dance, but it was apparent that was a lie or perhaps just an oversight on her part, because her drop-dead gorgeous man was shaking his very tight arse all over the floor.  It was clear that he wasn’t attempting to be provocative, but he move smoothly to the music and even the most subtle of hip movements caused her to wet herself and not at all because of the white wine!  The last of the beverage slid down her throat as she replaced the glass, blinking rapidly.

“Um…I’m….I’m just going to excuse myself to the loo.  Too much wine or something.”

“Mmm Hmm.”  Harry grinned.  Hermione was beginning to hate that idiotic grin on his face and if she didn’t get in on the game soon, she was going to find a way to wipe it from his newly-engaged face.

Getting up from the booth, she grabbed her clutch and headed for the loo or any open space she could find, desperate for air or maybe cold water.

_Get a grip, Hermione!  What are you getting yourself into?  Polite, funny Ron has become hot enough to sizzle bacon on his arse!  Get your mind out of the gutter!  He’s just dancing._

Hermione nearly stumbled into the loo, but managed to calm herself down.  The shock of seeing Ron like that had quickly turned from terrifying to frighteningly sexy and soon she couldn’t wait to get back and watch some more.  Watching him tilt his hips just made her think of the marvelous equipment contained in his denims – the parts that she knew up-close and personal.  It drew her thoughts back to how it felt to be lying under him or holding his arousal in her hand.

A quick splash of cold water snapped her out of that, but it wouldn’t last.  Still, it would have to do and she had a show to give, but after it was over, she didn’t care if she had to stay in bed for a week!  She was going to land her man!

Gathering herself, she dusted off her dress, thinking ahead to the quick change she was prepared to do and headed for the exit. No sooner had she cleared the door when a firm hand grabbed her arm and flung her around against the wall, tucked neatly behind a black Romanesque statue and a fake palm tree.  Her eyes were open, but at this range she couldn’t actually focus on who was kissing her.  However, he must have thought his tongue was a drill bit for he was trying to press a hole through her lips.

With a monumental effort and a substantial bit of noise, she pushed him back and finally saw Evan Walters looking a mixture of confused, neglected and ultimately randy.

“Evan!”  She pulled in a breath, about to really let into him, but suddenly found his hand over her mouth.  Her eyes nearly dilated in panic as she listened to him.

“You can just stop now.  I know all about you and your little games, Granger.  You almost had everyone fooled didn’t you?  All uptight and conservative in your black robes, the studious Ministry employee, always proper.  Well, we both know the truth don’t we?”

Hermione went quickly from annoyed to infuriated, and managed to struggle out of his hold.

“What the hell are you talking about?!  Get off of me!”  Wedging her arms between them, she shoved back with all her strength, but he took control back within seconds.

“I saw you with Potter.  I know you and the Weasley guy are just a fling.  So, here’s the deal…you want to keep your job?  Do you want to be the new Ministry poster-girl?”

He didn’t have to finish the rest of his sentence, for his lips jumped on to hers again.  Hermione wasn’t stupid and knew exactly what he had in mind.  Despite her unwillingness to believe that this man could even act this way, she had only one thought…getting his lips off of her.  However, now she had another worry.  His right hand had managed to slide up her hip and was dangerously close to eclipsing the hem of her dress.

Being nice about this was no longer an option and she lifted her knee and stomped her foot down on top of his.

“Ow!”  

Well that at least got him to stop his hands.  She considered drawing her wand, but realized there wasn’t enough room or time to get at it, for Evan wasn’t entirely retreating.  He must have realized his overzealous approach was not working for he raised his hands in a sort-of conciliatory manner and smiled.  

“Relax, Hermione.  Sorry.  Relax, alright?”

Anything but relaxed, Hermione’s brain was still whizzing with the next escape plan.  After all, crowds of people were only a few steps away if she could just get around him, the palm tree and the statue.  Screaming was always an option, but Hermione preferred the quiet and quite effective knee in the groin method.

“Evan, back off right now.  I’m warning you.  I don’t know what you’re talking about, but Ron and I are not a fling and I’m certainly not sleeping with you to keep my job, poster-girl or not!”

“Hard to get, huh?”  He lunged back at her, but that was his last willful movement as her hands took his shoulders, her kneecap coming into sharp contact with the reason for his randy attitude.  With a loud grunt and watery eyes, he contacted the floor, hidden nicely behind the palm.  

Words would do no good at this point.  It was pretty clear he wasn’t really listening to her and besides, right now he probably had too many pain receptors firing to comprehend anything besides the word ‘ice’.  She easily cleared the obstacles and made her way back to the lobby, trying to steady her breath.

_What is it with these guys?!  You put on a dress and they act like you’re their personal play thing!_

*** 

Things were going along splendidly.  Evan had slithered off to fulfill his wanton desires with Granger and now her former dance partner sat by himself with a table full of cocktails.  Brittany pulled the small vial from her favorite mammary hiding place and tucked it into her palm before walking casually around the edge of the dance floor.

Doing a quick survey of the table, she observed an empty wine glass, a beer bottle and another drink, none of them in front of Harry.  Approaching from the side, Harry didn’t see her until she was nearly upon him.

He snapped his head around and, being a witch herself, she recognized his movement toward his wand.  The speed he displayed was impressive.  No wonder he was the hero of the modern world and not a bad dancer she thought with a smirk.

“Hello, Harry.”

He slowly released a deep breath, demonstrating his control.  “Hello.  It’s Brittany, correct?”

“Ah, you remember.  How sweet.”  She sat down on the bench and slid toward him, placing her directly in front of the still full cocktail.

Although pleasant, his expression showed definite cool.  Her fight wasn’t with him.  That would be stupid for his skills and accomplishments outweighed almost anyone.  In fact, she found him quite pleasant, but he was a bit too short for her taste and hence, not on her radar screen.  Still, she recognized the challenge in taking on the famous Harry Potter, even if it was just to slip something in his girlfriend’s drink.  After all, she wasn’t going to hurt her, well not permanently.  It was just a joke right?  Still, as his green eyes bore into her she had a sudden qualm about the success of her venture.

“Come to practice your dancing some more tonight?” he asked with a dispassionate tone.

Brittany shifted slightly on the seat, just catching his wand out of the corner of her eye.  It would be wise for her to wait until he had stowed it away before making her move and she tried to maintain an air of casual friendliness for the time being.

“Did you enjoy our little dance the other night?”

“I can honestly say I’ve never tango’d before and I do appreciate your donation to the Foundation.”

The business connotation wasn’t overlooked.  He was good at this game, replying with  conversation that showed equal skill.

“Well, certainly!  It’s such a worthy cause.”  A slow blink camouflaged another glance at his wand hand, his weapon now stowed safely away.  The time to make her move was at hand and she leaned in as if to whisper in his ear, intentionally placing her body between him and the glass on the table.  With a confident cunning, she tipped the vial into the glass as she spoke along his jaw.

“And you are an excellent dancer.  Maybe we could try it again tonight.”

With the task completed, she withdrew with her most innocent expression and slid out of the booth.  Standing up, she paused for a brief second wondering if he would accept, but not really caring either way.  He only tipped his head, offering her a weak smile and she spun around on her spiked heels and enjoyed her sense of accomplishment.

*** 

Dancing was a somewhat guilty pleasure, one that Ron rarely allowed himself.  When they were much younger, Ginny and he used to dance all the time.  They were quite good and often made up little routines to entertain themselves when the rest of the siblings were away at school.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had both insisted the boys take basic dance lessons when they were in their teens.  Usually during the summer, but occasionally on Christmas break, they would either tutor them at the Burrow or on a couple of occasions, sent them to a class in London.  The lessons were offered in a free summer program and although none of the Weasley boys would ever admit it, they actually enjoyed it.  Maybe not Charlie so much, but the others did pretty well.  It was a forgone conclusion that none of them would ever mention this slice of the instructional pie to anyone.

Of course, Hermione, not being an avid dancer, left him with no one to really dance with.  Therefore, having Ginny pull him out tonight brought back a lot of memories and he found himself having a fantastic time recalling some of his more fancy moves.

His attention rarely left the table, even while dancing.  A small part of him worried that Hermione might not like this side of him, but she seemed fine about it.  At least she wasn’t looking totally appalled and even when he noticed she had left the table, Harry looked calm and that was always a good indicator for him.  Harry easily sensed danger before he did so, a happy best mate was usually good news.

The series of fast, pulsing tunes came to an end and he was laughing with Ginny, but suddenly grew pale as her countenance changed to what he recognized as the ‘Ginny is about to blow’ look of anger.  The thought of turning around to face whatever it was brought the hair on the back of his neck to a fine bristle, but he swallowed and readied himself. 

With several long strides, she cut between two dancing couples and approached him.  

“Ron!  You made it!  I thought you weren’t coming.  This is just delightful!”

“I’m here with my girlfriend, Brittany.  I told you at the office that I’m seeing someone.”

“Actually, that’s why I came over to talk to you.  Do you mind if we have a word in private?”

Ginny must have been near the boiling point, for her jaw tightened to the point that Ron’s teeth hurt just looking at her.  He was sure things would become nasty if he didn’t separate the two women so, he motioned for Brittany to step to the side.  This woman was becoming a real thorn in his side, but he maintained the ultimate in confidence about handling her. 

“Gin, can you give me a minute?”

The strength of her squint was scary as she pushed a smile to her face.  “Certainly.”

Crisis averted, he took a few steps to the side of the dance floor, still in clear view of their table.  “What is it, Brittany?”  His tone clearly showed annoyance, but he felt prepared for whatever babble she had to deliver this go round.

“Ron, I really like you and so I’ve been hesitant to say anything.  You seem like such a decent guy and I’d hate to see you get hurt, but I just felt that I couldn’t put this off any longer.”

“What are you going on about?”

“It’s about your girlfriend.  You see, I was visiting Rhonda at the Ministry yesterday and just as I was leaving, I happened along a disturbing sight in the fifth floor hallway.”  

“What?”  Ron blinked, trying to maintain his air of indifference, for this paper cut in his life just wouldn’t heal.  She just kept digging and digging, trying to push him to bleed, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, you see.  It was Evan Walters – you know that bloke doing the advert with Hermione?  She had her legs wrapped around him in the corridor and well, his hands weren’t exactly where they should be, at least not for a proper young lady.  I’m really sorry to tell you this, but I just couldn’t in good conscience let it go.”

If this was all she had to say, then Ron was feeling relatively grateful, but he ground his teeth together as she reverted to her usual display of lascivious aggression.  This time she went right ahead and pressed her chest against him, her hands grasping his arms.

“You’re such a great guy and I just couldn’t bear to see you hurt.  I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but if you need to talk to anyone – I’m always available.  You just Apparate right on over anytime.”

Ron thought he might just throw up on the girl.  His anger was peaked, for now she was intentionally lying about his darling Hermione and it took every ounce of restraint to keep from doing something very ungentlemanly.  His mother would be shocked, if she knew what he was contemplating.  He honestly found it difficult to speak, his jaw locked against the formation of any words, and determined he had no choice but to simply walk away.

His saving grace came with her eyes.  Hermione had returned to the table and was whispering something to Ginny who still looked rather miffed.  Even though the topic of his recent conversation hadn’t been pleasant, it still involved Hermione and any thoughts of her always brought him to a better place.  Maybe it was his imagination, but she looked a bit put out as she spoke to Ginny, and Ron hoped it wasn’t over him.  He was still feeling a bit ashamed of his behavior from the previous night.  After reviewing it over and over in his sleep, he considered that he really hadn’t allowed her to respond.  Apparating away like that probably wasn’t conducive to a healthy relationship.

Still, those eyes did the trick.  They met him and his confidence soared.  He was going to make things right and apologize before another minute elapsed.  Reaching out a hand, he smiled warmly.

“Hermione, would you dance with me?”

“Of course.”  She budged over, taking his hand and he led her out to the center of the parquet floor.  The music had turned slow and Ron easily swept an arm around her waist and pulled her close, his other hand grasping hers between them.  For a moment he thought the rough thumping in his chest would radiate right through their hands, but he gave her a gentle squeeze and began to sway.

Amongst her many other qualities, Hermione also happened to be the just the right height in Ron’s opinion.  She fit perfectly against him, petite and soft, yet full of fire and passion.  Even with her hair up and a modest dress, she wowed him every time and he just had to find a way to put her at ease, to assure her of his intentions and alleviate any fears about him compromising their intimacy.

Tipping his chin down, he spoke to the side of her head.  “You look beautiful tonight.”

Without turning, he heard the polite response.  “Thank you.”

“I-I want to apologize for last night.  I shouldn’t have left you like that.  It wasn’t fair and I’m sorry.”

This time she pulled back to look at him and her eyes nearly sent him spiraling into another world.  An intense mix of emotions shown on her face.  Hurt, desire, intelligence, compassion – they were all there, just waiting for Ron to sort through them one at a time and address each with the kind of response she deserved.

“You never let me explain.”

“I know, but I’m listening now and I promise not to interrupt.”

“First of all, what happened last night was not, as you put it, an attempt to placate you or any such nonsense.  You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to even _try_ something like that with.  And, I did enjoy it.  I can assure you this is not all one sided.  Ron…I want to say something, but I don’t want to frighten you.  Promise you’ll hear me out?”

“Of course.  What is it?”  His brows deepened as he wondered what she could say that could possibly frighten him.

He felt her body stiffen with what he sensed was resolve as she wet her lips.

“I’ve been in love with you for years now.”

Ron’s heart raced with delight, his eyes losing all sense of concern and immediately twinkling with unmatched joy, but he considered her statement.  “And you think that would frighten me?”

“Possibly.  It frightened me.  I-I didn’t know how to act around you.  We were friends, but I couldn’t get beyond that, even though I wanted to.  Then, last Monday, I saw that girl hanging on you and I got so jealous.  It was like Lavender all over again!  I was terrified that she was going to take you from me and...a...well, I decided I needed to change, to take charge of my love life.”

“Yeah, well bidding fifty thousand Galleons, money I know you don’t have, just to kiss me sent a pretty forceful message, Hermione.”  

The song ended, but they just kept swaying and soon another one began, the couples around them exiting and entering the dance floor as they remained locked in each others’ gaze.  Ron barely noticed Harry and Ginny moving close by, only a blur of red and black hair captured in the corner of his eye.  His attention and heart were solely focused on the beauty before him.

“The thing is…” she began.

Ron internally scratched his head for he had never seen Hermione struggle so hard to say something.  The girl who always exuded confidence had lost eye contact and was gnawing so hard on her lip that he was sure it would bleed before the night was over.  What was she having such a hard time saying?  Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to help her along, if he could.  Reaching up, his knuckles tilted her chin back toward him, her eyes slowly climbing to return to his. He leaned in, kissing her with a full heart, trying to fill her with confidence and the knowledge that he wasn’t going anywhere.  Pulling back very slowly, his words begged for her to continue.

“Tell me, Hermione.  Please.  I need you to be honest with me.”

“Alright, honestly, then,” she paused,  “I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.  I know it’s been a bit confusing.  You need to understand how much you make me ache.  I want to be with you…I mean, really _be_ with you, but only if this is for real.  I just can’t give myself up like that if this isn’t the real thing.”

Just the tiniest hint of smile crept across his face, for he knew the answer to that question.  It was probably the simplest answer he’d ever given.

“Well, I can assure you that this is the real thing.  I’m nutters over you and that’s not going to change.  I didn’t wait this long and go through all the torture of watching you dance with Victor Krum, buying lingerie, practicing speeches and taking dance lessons for nothing.  This was all for you, Hermione.”

Her smile said it all.  There was no need for words.  She flung her arms around his neck in the fiercest hug he had ever experienced.  It even rivaled his mother’s and he lifted her off the floor just for a second, feeling her relax in his arms.  Finally, all was well.  He knew it and prepared himself to have the time of his life tonight, Hermione with him the whole way.

Suddenly, he felt a nudge from behind him and they broke apart from the warm embrace.  Ginny stood, still in Harry’s arms, but obviously wanting to tell Hermione and him something.

“She’s up to something.”  

Harry looked at him in confusion and Ron shrugged, confirming the fact that neither of them knew who ‘she’ was and what she might be ‘up to.’

However, it didn’t take long to figure it out.  Brittany was practically steering Evan Walters around the dance floor and he didn’t look too pleased.  Well, actually, he looked a bit pained and was walking kind of funny.  Ron wasn’t sure what it all meant, but either way he wanted to distance himself from her as soon as possible.  Leading Hermione to the left, she made him stop with a firm grip on his arm, sending a message that she needed his attention.

Turning his back toward the rest of the dancers, he noticed that Hermione’s eyes kept looking around him, back at the group even as she spoke.  “Ron, that girl Brittany is going to do something tonight.  We overheard a conversation this afternoon and she plans on trying to charm my shoes and spike Ginny’s drink.”

“What?”  He started to turn, but Hermione grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back.

“Shh!  It’s alright.  We have a plan to put her in her place.  So, I want you to just relax and enjoy the show tonight, but keep an eye on her for me, too, alright?”

Ron was instantly reminded of his surroundings.  Using magic was not an option, but he certainly wasn’t going to let some slag hurt his girl.  Then Hermione’s words returned and he looked at her more closely.  “What show?”

The fire that shown in her eyes demonstrated that his passionate, confident girl was certainly back.  Her smile grew to its widest, brightest ever as she replied.  “You’ll see.”

*** 

Brittany had now managed to basically push Evan to the center of the dance floor.  More than once he tried to casually shift the goods a bit, obviously still in pain from Hermione’s well-placed knee.    

Ginny, like Hermione, was very aware of every move their enemy made, knowing that if she was going to take action, it would be soon.  Harry had managed to extract enough information from Ginny that he was now in on the game.  Ginny assured him that she had it under control.  It was apparent that Harry was a bit concerned and his glance over his shoulder gave it away.

“Just keep dancing, Harry.  Turn to your left just a bit.”

“I don’t like this Gin.  First of all, it’s against wizarding law to use magic in this setting.  Ron and I could just arrest her on the spot and secondly, I don’t like having my back to someone I know is intent on hurting you or Hermione.”

“She’s not going to hurt anyone, Harry.  Trust me.”

“Ginny, if she so much as shifts a hair on your head, I’m going to take her out and I don’t need a wand a do it, either.”

“Then you’d be guilty of using magic.  I don’t want to be married to an Azkaban tenant.”  With eyes continuing to survey the dance floor, she grinned.  “Do you think they allow conjugal visits?”

Just then Brittany made her move and Ginny saw just the tip of her wand push out from under her arm.  What Brittany didn’t know was that Hermione had discreetly placed a charm on all of their shoes during dinner tonight.  The charm would rebound any curses and Ginny stood prepared to gently bump the slag into the curse’s rebounding path if she could, hoping to pull off a little ‘what goes around comes around’ for their hated rival. 

As suspected, the thin jet of blue light just skirted the dance floor, heading directly at Hermione’s shoes.  Granted, she had complete confidence in Hermione’s abilities, but she still winced as the curse shot out, wanting to warn her friend.  However, just as quickly as the light left the wand tip, it reflected back to its source, exactly as planned.  Unfortunately for Evan, Brittany was trying to hide her illegal act and turned him directly into the path of the reflected spell.  

From out of no where, Evan began to jerk and sway, his feet directing his legs in a direction that was quite contrary to nature. The music played on, quite strongly in fact and a few of the neighboring partners paused to watch this odd display.  Ginny couldn’t help but laugh as they seemed to think he was demonstrating some new dance or rhythmic maneuver that was soon to be all the rage.

Poor, clueless Brittany was so focused on Hermione that she failed to realize Evan’s strange behavior, that is, until he tripped over his own feet and fell directly into her.

Ginny caught Hermione’s smile just peeking around Ron’s arm as they watched Brittany’s shocked face as she landed with a thump on the wooden floor.  Rhonda quickly ran out to assist.  It appeared that Evan had managed to add a twisted ankle to his swollen groin as Rhonda helped him up and he limped off, Rhonda’s arm around his waist.  Brittany picked herself up, looking bewildered and totally oblivious to the fact that her spell had failed.

The song ended and many couples left the dance floor, Brittany included.  Ginny noticed the DJ giving her the agreed upon signal and she motioned to Hermione for them to clear the floor.  Ginny turned back to her fiancé.

“Harry, love.  Why don’t you and Ron take a seat at our table.  Hermione and I have a little surprise for you.”

“You’ve been planning something all week haven’t you?”  he grinned with curiosity.

“Yup!  Look, this is going to be Hermione’s moment.  I’m just here to get her started and for moral support and all that, but I think you’ll still enjoy it.”

“Woman, you drive me crazy, do you know that?”

She smiled, rubbing the tip of her nose against his and then planting a firm kiss on his lips.  “Now go on, we have to get ready.”  She gave him a nudge and turned to approach Hermione who seemed to be telling Ron to have a seat as well.  She watched Ron and Harry make eye contact, each shrugging to the other as they reached their table.

“Are you ready, Hermione?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I put our clothes and everything in the back before.  AJ – that’s the DJ’s name, anyway, AJ is going to give us a few minutes to get ready.  Come on.”

Ginny directed them behind a black curtain that hung from the ceiling behind the DJ stand.  Behind it, there was a staging area with boxes of equipment and off to the side, two doors.  Ginny led them back towards the one of the left, finding a small changing room with their things already hanging up.  They could still clearly hear the music from the other room and then the DJ’s voice boomed over the crowd.

 “Is everyone have a good time tonight?!”  The crowd roared back.  “Smashing!  Well, I have a special treat tonight for all of you dance enthusiasts.  We’re going to have a special dance contest.”  Again, the crowd erupted with cheers and applause.  

“I’m so nervous, Gin.”  She was letting her hair down and preparing to change.

“This is going to be so much fun!  Just be the outgoing, terrific dancer that I know you are!  They are going to love you!”  Ginny pulled out her dress and shoes and began her own transformation.

“Do you think we finally took care of Brittany?”  Hermione asked as she removed her blue dress.

“I think so.  Harry noticed her slipping something into my drink before and warned me.  So, I won’t have that to deal with and the charm worked great on the shoes!  That poor bloke is having a bad night, isn’t he?”

“He deserves it.  When I stepped out of the loo before, he came on to me like there was no tomorrow!  He kissed me for Merlin’s sake!  I finally had to drive home my point, if you know what I mean.”  She demonstrated with a raised knee and Ginny winced, imagining the man’s pain on contact.

“That’s why he was walking so funny.”

 

“I’m beginning to think that he and Brittany deserve each other!”

“Yeah!”  They both laughed and continued to change, hearing the DJ speak again.

*** 

Ron and Harry settled back at their table, Harry having found a waitress who brought him a beer.  Sipping their beverages, they continued to scan the dance floor and the table across the way that seemed to house a very perturbed Brittany.  It appeared that Rhonda had taken pity on Evan and was trying to very discreetly heal his ankle under the table.  At least now that he was seated, his legs weren’t flying in every direction.

The DJ’s voice broke over the crowd.  “Alright, everyone.  Let’s start out with a little warm-up.  Everyone out and let’s do the Electric Slide!”  The music ramped up immediately and a group of happy young people rushed to the floor, forming several rows and began the well-known series of steps.

Ron leaned in a bit, shouting over the music.  “Harry, do you know what’s going on?”

“Not really.  I just know it’s some surprise that they’ve been working on all week.”

“No.  I meant, what’s going on over there!”  He gestured across the floor, but kept his eyes turned away.  Brittany was back up on her feet, hovering just at the edge of the parquet flooring, the colored lights spinning about her and she was staring directly at him.

“I know she tried to spike Ginny’s drink before.  She thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”

“Yeah, she tried to tell me that Hermione was cheating on me with that Evan bloke.”

Harry punched his arm casually.  “You sure do have a weird group of fans.  A little obsessed I say.”

“Yeah, I know!  I can’t get her to leave me alone!”

“Well, I think you’re going to get another chance to try because she’s heading this way.”

Sure enough, the traitorous tart was vamping her way across, that now annoying smile on her face.  Ron slammed down the last of his beer, setting it down rather forcefully on the table as he let out a huge breath and turned.

“What do you want, Brittany?”  Ron had given up on using any kind of polite tone, perfectly comfortable with showing his displeasure.

“Oh, Ronald.  I have a fantastic idea!  I saw you dancing before.  You are incredible!  Well, you know that I’ve been trained in dance and was even the head girl on the cheer team for the Brighton Knights a few years ago.  Why don’t we enter the dance contest?  Won’t that be fun?!”  She jumped up and down, her chest bouncing quite noticeably and Ron had no doubts that it was all intentional.  At this point, her breasts no longer thrilled him after having seen and touched Hermione’s perfect ones.

“I don’t think so, Brittany.  I’m not interested.”

The music stopped and many of the dancers started to walk away.  Then the DJ’s voice came over the microphone again.  “Ladies and Gentleman, if I could have you clear the dance floor, I have a special treat.”

Brittany ignored the DJ and just kept talking and trying once again to use her trademark move of showing more skin than should be legally allowed and moving into Ron’s personal space again.  “How can you not be interested?  Oh, come on.  Do it for your biggest fan.  Please?  Oh, pretty please?”

A new song started up, clapping and tapping in rhythm and drew Ron and Harry’s attention away from the whiny floozy in front of them.  Ron simply stepped around her, forcing her to turn toward the dance floor just as the lyrics began.

_Baby, baby, just a little bit_

_Baby, baby, just a little more_

_Baby, baby, let me see ya_

_Walk to me, talk to me, handle me right_

The black drape swung out to reveal Ginny strutting across the floor with an exaggerated wiggle.  Ron blinked, examining his sister and quickly turned to Harry, wondering if he was similarly shocked.  He must have been for his lips had parted and a wide smile was taking over his face.

Ginny’s wardrobe could never be construed as conservative so seeing her in the red dress and heels wasn’t all that surprising, but she had definitely glammed up and was mouthing along to the words as she traversed the dance floor, her hips swinging to the beat.

_I did cause a commotion_

_I can’t help but make a scene_

_I ain’t lookin for something_

_Permanent to get at me_

She circled the floor clearly heading toward Harry and finally stood in front of him, her eyes alight with energy and enthusiasm.  She tossed her head as she continued with the words and Ron noticed she was actually singing them, not just mouthing along.

_If you rock me, You can keep that_

_Tell you what its gonna be_

She pressed a finger against Harry’s chest.

_You better step up your game_

_Before you can step to me_

Quickly stepping back, Ron glanced to his mate and saw his eyes radiating the same delight that he had seen in his sister.  Ginny began a very interesting rhythmic walk around the edge of the dance floor, something she had obviously practiced.

_Can’t you see me walkin’ through the door?_

_Maybe I should turn it up a little bit more_

_I can’t help but be responsible_

_For what the girls hate_

_And the boys adore_

With that last line she had paused and winked at a young man spectating along the side of the room.  He was very thin, a bit geeky looking and quite obviously without a date and Ginny’s motion made his face erupt into a brilliant red.

_Say Hey, what’s it gonna be tonight_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

_Say hey, you comin with me tonight_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

_Say hey, we be runnin all lights_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

Harry didn’t seem bothered at all that Ginny had decided to turn her favors onto this poor unsuspecting boy.  She did a very dramatic shimmy in front of him as the final lyrics in the phrase ended.

_I know you feel it cause you checkin my body_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

When it looked like the bloke was about to pass out, she turned and marched to the beat toward the black curtain again, tossing her head over her shoulder with the end of every line.  Finally, pulling the drape open.

_Baby, Baby, just a little bit_

_Baby, baby, just a little more_

_Baby, baby, let me see ya_

_Walk to me, talk to me, handle me right_

The girl that made an entrance through the curtain was the most gorgeous thing Ron had ever seen.  The rest of the men in the room must have thought the same thing for a round of cat calls and hoots escaped almost every mouth in the room.

_I walk in, jaws all be dropping_

_Its so electrified_

Ron’s jaw flew open as if to confirm the lyrics, staring at this stunning creature.  His little proper Hermione was…well, she was…

_WOW!_

The hot pink dress hugged every beautiful curve on her and Ron was again reminded of how those breasts she had been so distressed about, filled out all the right spots, a strip of rhinestones accenting the dip between them.  Her shapely legs flowed on forever under two layers of ruffles that just bounced over her curvy arse and led his eyes down to the tall spiky heels.

Her long hair flowed down over her back and her eyes were smoky looking, with deeply luscious pink lips to match the dress.  With a hand on her hip, she strutted across the floor, also singing along with the tune.  Ron’s stomach flipped upside down as she smiled at him, her eyes full of fire.

_Don’t mean to intimidate, way to make you lose your mind_

She paused in front of him and tossed her hair to the side.

_If you want this, work your focus,_

_Show me that you got what’s right_

Then, as if Ron wasn’t already aroused beyond his wildest dreams, she turned and pushed her bum out, pressing it against him as she slid down and back up his body.

_You better make an impression_

_You won’t get another try_

When she marched away, he couldn’t remove his eyes from her perfect round bottom and the way it bounced as she crossed the floor.  He had completely forgotten about everyone else in the room, including Brittany who must have also been too shocked to take any kind of action.

_Can you see me walkin’ through the door?_

She tossed her head over her shoulder to look at him.

_Maybe I should turn it up a little bit more_

Turning back, she walked directly at Brittany and paused, very clearly addressing the next two lines to the bint who didn’t know when to give up.

_I can’t help but be responsible_

_For what the girls hate_

_And the boys adore_

On the last line, she trailed a hand down Ron’s chest and then quickly retreated to join Ginny in the center of the dance floor.  Together they burst into their practiced choreography, a combination of that bump and grind and a lot of other moves that totally blew Ron away.   

_Say Hey, what’s it gonna be tonight_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

_Say hey, you comin with me tonight_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

At some point during all this Brittany must have snapped out of whatever kind of funk had been holding her and decided on an impromptu recital herself, jumping in front of Ron to swing her hips suggestively, all the while glancing back at what the girls were doing.

_Say hey, we be runnin all lights_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

Ron had pretty much reached his limit with the thing that kept disrupting his line of sight.  His eyes were on fire with the hot pink flame gyrating in front of him and firmly grabbing Brittany’s arms, he lifted her and set her to the side, striding purposefully to the center of the dance floor.

_I know you feel it cause you checkin my body_

_Come hit me up, come hit me up_

Hermione kept dancing, but her deep brown stayed with his baby blues as he approached her.  She managed to get through two more lines before Ron wrapped her in his arms quite forcefully, holding her very close as they danced to the rest of the song.  All he kept thinking was that she was a wonderfully mouth-watering piece of pink candy that he just wanted to unwrap and consume right there.

*** 

The song was coming to an end and that was a good thing because Ginny was getting winded.  Harry had followed Ron’s lead and met her on the dance floor.  She was thrilled at what was happening with her brother at the moment.  She knew they’d thank her later, but she smiled with deep satisfaction knowing she had turned things around for them.  However, the fringe benefits came in the form of the knowing looks she was getting from her apparently randy fiancé.

Basically on auto-pilot, Ginny was just going through the remaining moves before the end of the song when she saw Brittany, a scowl on her face, marching straight out to the dance floor.  It appeared her focus was solely on Hermione – big mistake – for Ginny immediately countered in Harry’s arms, turning them around so that she now stood almost immediately behind Brittany.

The music ended rather abruptly and the crowd began to applaud.  Hermione was being kissed, but Brittany kept on going, even without the music trying to dance very provocatively in front of Ron.  Ginny saw her opportunity and using Harry as cover stepped behind her and covertly flung Brittany’s skirt up revealing the thong and big patch of red, irritated skin and thick fur beside it.

The cool air on her derriere must have clued her in on her revealing situation and she screamed, frantically trying to push her skirt back down as it seemed a fluky draft of air had burst up from the floor.  Harry probably sensed the danger in the situation and quickly pulled Ginny to the side, Ron having done the same with Hermione.

She screeched again, holding her hands over her arse and running off the dance floor toward a darkened corner of the room.  Ginny joined the rest of the crowd that had split into laughter at the shocking sight before them.  Despite it looking quite scary, she just couldn’t help the stitch in her side that was growing from the humor in it all.  

Numerous people started to flood the dance floor, many of them offering congratulations and ‘well done’ remarks to both Ginny and Hermione.  Surprisingly, many more girls were commenting than boys.  Ginny surmised that this was due to the boys’ own desires for continued female companionship for the rest of the evening.  

Another fast song started up and the lively crowd took over the entertainment as Ginny and Hermione, both winded, but happy sauntered over to their table.  Ginny sat down and scooted in on the bench, Harry slipping in beside her.  However, the couple across from them were all together different.  Ron hadn’t let go of Hermione since he met her on the floor.  He sat down and brusquely pulled her into his lap, Hermione squealing with delight as he did.

“You were bloody fantastic!”  Ron bellowed, kissing Hermione hard and fast. “Where did you learn how to dance like that?!”

“I could ask you the same question.”  Hermione replied.

Ginny grinned, recalling how earlier in the week Ron had stated his lack of dance experience.  “I told you, Ron.  You shouldn’t have said that you didn’t know how to dance.”

“Shut it, Gin.”  He turned back to the girl in his lap.  “Yes, I know how to dance and yes, I like to do it, okay?”

Ginny wasn’t sure if Hermione’s flushed cheeks were a result of her winded countenance or the fact that she was being held quite closely on Ron’s lap and he was watching her with an eagerness that just screamed sex!  Finding herself wrapped up in the moment, she absently reached for her glass and was about to take a drink when Harry grabbed her arm.

“Gin!  No, don’t drink that.”

“Oh, God.  I almost forgot.”  She set the glass back down carefully.

*** 

With all the people milling about, chatting and the music still pulsing in the room, none of them noticed the pair that had approached their booth.  Maybe because Hermione was sitting up a bit higher, she sensed them first and quickly nudged Ron who up to this point had been drawing little circles on her thigh under the table.

Evan and Rhonda stood arm in arm, Rhonda finally clearing her throat to get their attention.

“Um…Ron…Hermione.  Look, I know I wasn’t involved in all this tonight, but I still feel like I should apologize for Brittany.  I just don’t know what has gotten into her lately.  She’s never been this mean before and well…Hermione you did a great job tonight and well…I have to tell you that Brittany tried to hex your shoes, but somehow it backfired and hit Evan here.”

Ginny cut in.  “Well, she’s gone now.”

Rhonda confessed. “Not really, she’s fuming in the loo, but I suspect she’ll be back out before long.”  

Evan stood, looking somewhat ashamed, a deep burrow in his brow.  “I need to apologize too, Hermione.  My actions toward you were rude and very inappropriate, but I do need you to know that Brittany was the one who told me you were sort of…well…up for grabs.  I really fancy you and when she told me you were kind of…um…easy.”

“Wait a minute!” Ron interrupted.  He obviously didn’t care for Evan’s reference to Hermione’s alleged promiscuity.  “Hermione is not some slag.  She is a bright and beautiful woman with strong moral values and an incredible sense of what is right and what is wrong in this world.  You would all do well to take some lessons from her because you are way out of her league!”

“Yeah, I know.”  Evan addressed Ron.  “Your girlfriend put me rather painfully in my place tonight.”

Ginny saw Ron’s jaw tighten and knew that if it wasn’t for the fact that Hermione was on his lap, he would be up and in Evan’s face in a second.

“What did you do?”  Ron exclaimed, even though the music drowned out part of it, Evan obviously got the point.

“I said I was sorry!”

Rhonda now turned to Ginny, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from Evan and his poor choices.

“Miss Weasley, I think Brittany tried to do something to you tonight as well.  I didn’t agree with her, but I let my friendship cloud my judgment a bit.”  Rhonda’s gaze hit on the cocktail sitting at the table.  “I think she spiked your drink.  It’s a potion that will make you say the exact opposite of what you intend.  It was from your brothers’ joke shop.”

Now, of course, Ginny knew this already, but having Rhonda say it only emphasized the sincerity of her apology and confession.  Both of the confessors had dropped her heads and Ginny looked around the table at everyone, all apparently displaying the same expression of shock and relief.

Hermione carefully slid off of Ron’s lap and approached the couple.  She looked directly at Evan first, but he kept his head down, his eyes darting around anywhere except to meet hers.  “Evan, I need to make something very clear.  I will not have my face posted around the Ministry as some poster-child for flirtatiousness and loose behavior.  If you still want me, then the campaign will be classy and spirited and I will have direct say over every thing that is printed with my picture on it.  So, do you still want me for this and do you agree to my terms?”

Evan nodded quickly.  “I-I really think you are the best person for the campaign and yes, I understand completely.  I’m so very sorry and I’ll do whatever it is you want to make this work.”

“Good.  First, you are going to help me put an end to Brittany’s behavioral issues tonight.”  She picked up the cocktail and handed it to Rhonda.  One look down and Rhonda seemed to understand the plan and she nodded her agreement, apparently recognizing it was a necessary evil.

Rhonda turned her focus to Ron.  “Ron, I hope we can still work together after this.  I’m still a huge fan, but I would never do anything to break up your relationship with Hermione.  You two look so great together.”

“I appreciate that, Rhonda.  I’m sure we can still enjoy a good working relationship.  Just keep your friend away from me, alright?”

Rhonda offered a weak smile and nodded, turning with the cocktail in her hand and Evan followed suit, both of them returning to their table across the way.

Hermione watched them walk away, feeling just a bit satisfied that at least the two of them had turned a corner.  The music had changed to a much slower tempo and the lights had dimmed just as she felt Ron’s hands slide around her hips.  Suddenly his voice played in her ear.

“Care to dance?”

Hermione couldn’t hide her smile and turned in his embrace.  “I’d love to.”

They barely reached the break in the carpet when Hermione slipped her arms around Ron’s neck and pulled him down.  The relief was monumental and she only replayed happy thoughts from this most exciting night.  Ron had an arm on her lower back and one across the middle where he was gently stroking her spine up and down.  His silk shirt was smooth against her cheek as she pressed into him.

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering something.”

“What?”

“Well, if you think this is too soon, just tell me to sod off, but I was wondering if you might consider moving in with me.”

Hermione pulled back, quite surprised by his question.  Perhaps it was just because of everything that had occurred in the past week, but all she could think of was that Ron would want to sleep together every night, that he was anticipating a much more sexual relationship.  It must have shown for he came to the defensive almost immediately.

“I’m not asking because I think that we’re going to…um…bonk every night or anything.  I just would really like to have you around more often.  I have an extra bedroom.  You could have mine, if you want.”  His expression sank.  “I’m total rubbish at this, aren’t I?”

“No, Ron.  You are a delightfully witty and fit young man and I’m a lucky girl.  What you said about me before to Evan…well…it was just lovely.  I felt so special at that moment.  Let me think about the moving in.  Just give me a bit of time, alright?”

“Sure.”  

They kept swaying for another minute, Hermione noticing how Ginny and Harry were snuggled closely in the booth and were talking and kissing, the glow of their love all around them.  She smiled warmly just watching them, but then noticed Brittany return to her table.

Hermione spoke into Ron’s shoulder. “She’s back.”  Ron led them around so that they could both see her and soon noticed Rhonda offer her the drink which she downed quickly.  Hermione waited patiently, making sure the potion would have proper time to work before finally pulling back from Ron and walking up the to DJ table.

“AJ, could I borrow the mike for a few announcements?”

She got the impression that he normally didn’t allow it, but as he and Ginny were friends and they had just made his tour for the night a smashing success, he seemed to give in to her wishes with a nod.

Turning to the crowd, she flicked the switch on the microphone.  “Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention?”  The volume of voices began to decrease.  “Thank you.  First of all, I just have to say thank you for your support with out little dance presentation tonight.  You made me feel great.”  The audience applauded again and Hermione paused for a second.  “I wanted to let you all know that my dance partner, Ginny just got engaged last night, so congratulations to Ginny and Harry!”

The wizarding folk in the audience seemed to applaud a bit harder, obviously knowing the two and their history, but even the Muggles seemed happy for them.

“Finally, I would like to introduce you to the newest model for the Walters and Ringham Ad Agency – Brittany!”  AJ seemed to be going with the flow and turned the nearby spot light in the direction that Hermione was pointing, finding Brittany seated at the table and looking very surprised and quite flustered.  Still, as Hermione suspected, Brittany got up, an immediate smile enveloping her face, and model walked to the front of the room, something Hermione was sure she detested.  The idea of being close to her was not appealing, but Hermione’s determination to end this once and for all was overriding all else.  The audience was clapping away as a confused Brittany reached the microphone.

Hermione began the interrogation – rather, the interview.  “Aren’t you delighted with being the brightest new model in the agency?”

“Are you kidding?  It’s awful.”  She looked confused, gulping and obviously wondering why she was saying what she did, but Hermione continued.

“Oh, yes the work must be very hard and you must have to workout to keep that gorgeous figure.”

She nods yes, but says “No, I eat junk food all day and have them just fix the photographs.”  Her hand flew up to her mouth in shock, perspiration building on her brow as Hermione continued.

 “Actually, Brittany here is such a doll.  She helped me recently with the most glowing review you could ever wish for.  Didn’t you, Brit?”

 

She looked to be in deepest concentration, as if attempting to speak slowly, but the words flew out with great speed.  “YeahhhhNO!  I told everyone you traded sexual favors for your position at work.”  Hermione made sure the microphone was shoved right up into her face and then continued on as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

“Ahh ha ha ha!  That is so funny.  She is such a comedienne, isn’t she folks!”

The audience, ninety eight percent oblivious to the facts, just chuckled and applauded weakly.  Only a very few, including Evan and Rhonda seemed to wince at Brittany’s last statement.  Brittany moved as if trying to make a run for it, but Hermione grabbed her firmly by the arm and almost growled out the last question.

“So, tell us how horrible it feels to be a Yetti.”

The crowd looked confused, but Brittany lashed out, not realizing her words.  “Oh, you wonderful girl!  I just love being covered in hair.  In fact, I had to get my arse waxed today!”

Feeling vindicated, Hermione released her just as she screamed and ran from the stage.  Hermione, keeping her cool, played along with the crowd’s assumptions.

“Oh, isn’t she just too funny?  Well, anyway, thanks again for all your support tonight.”

Handing the mic back to AJ, Hermione walked back, her eyes meeting Ginny’s and the two girls seemed to both feel relieved and satisfied that Brittany would not return again.

The rest of the evening was very pleasant.  Ron pulled Hermione out on the dance floor more times than she could remember.  She laughed and glowed over his sexy and sometimes funny dance moves until a slow song would come on and she would find herself secure in his arms once again.  Several other men asked Hermione to dance, but she turned each one down, preferring to stay by Ron’s side.

Even though Harry and Ginny did dance, they seemed to prefer sitting and talking most of the evening.  Several times Hermione caught Harry examining Ginny’s ring finger and kissing her sweetly.  She almost didn’t want the night to end, but soon midnight had rolled around and people began to leave.  She and Ginny gathered their clothes from before ‘the change’ and Hermione made a point of saying goodbye to Evan and Rhonda who seemed eternally grateful that she didn’t hold any grudges.

After Ron helped her with her cloak, the four of them departed and walked a few blocks to a location that was free of Muggles before saying their goodbyes.  Harry and Ginny disappeared with a pop, leaving them alone.

“What a night, huh?”  Hermione smiled.

“Yeah.  I had a great time.  What about you?” he grinned back, looking very much awake.

“I was so nervous before, but after I got out there, it was fun.”

“You mean after charming our shoes, fighting off Evan, exposing Brittany and all that?”

“I suppose it was an eventful evening.”  Hermione pulled the collar of her robes a bit tighter as they stood in the cool November air.

“So…why don’t we get you home and out of the cold, alright?”  Ron was rocking on his heels and rubbing his hands together.

“Foyer?”

“Agreed.”

With two pops, the London street was quiet once again.


	11. Chapter 11 - To Bonk Or Not To Bonk...That is the Question

  
Author's notes: Well, this is it.  The final chapter.  Thanks so much to rosepddle for all her help in the beta department and to all the wonderful readers who have sent me such fantastic reviews!  I'm so thrilled that you've liked the story.  So, without further adieu...  


* * *

 

Early Sunday Morning

 

Hermione arrived in her foyer and a second later Ron appeared just behind her.  She pulled off her cloak and hung it on the rack by the door.  Still in her bright pink dress, the shoes were the first to go and she grabbed hold of the nearby table for support as she released the buckle on her right shoe.

 

Her concentration was drawn away as a hand skimmed her neck, brushing her hair to one side before a set of warm lips found her shoulder.  She had to smile as the tingles washed over her, but she managed to remove the shoe.

 

“I’ve been wanting to get you alone all night.” Ron murmured as he worked his way toward her throat.

 

Hermione smiled, her head falling to the side as his hot breath and feathery touch sent a chill straight down to her toes.  Her arm reached up into the nape of his neck, his soft hair woven through her fingers.

  

  _Oh, God.  Yes.  This feels so good._

 

Besides coming out for the crowd at the club tonight, she had done the same for herself and felt a renewed sense of confidence and sensuality.  Ginny had been the impetus to start her on this path of self-renewal.  However, honestly, the thing that put her over the top, the main influence on her was the trust she had gained from Ron.  Years of insecurity and hesitance had crumbled in a week.  A week where they had finally found the courage to talk, to share and to discover that each had something that the other needed:  a sense of passionate belonging.  And she knew that her heart was lost to the lovely man behind her who was running his hands over her scalp and causing her knees to wobble.  Or, maybe that was because she was standing on one three inch heel.

 

Either way, she dropped down to balance on her one stocking-covered foot, distancing her neck from his wonderful kisses.  She turned in his arms and he smiled warmly before bending down in front of her.  A brief look of curiosity shone on her face before he reached out to unbuckle the straps on her remaining shoe.  Gently holding her ankle, he slipped it off her foot, pausing to examine the gold and rhinestone trimmed sandal.

 

“These are very hot.”

 

“You like those, do you?”  Her smile wasn’t so much from his reaction to the shoe, but from the way his hand slid up her calf.  She searched for support, her palm landing on the nearby table as Ron leaned down and kissed the inside of her ankle, his hand gliding up the outside of her leg as his lips followed on the inside, brushing her calf and the side of her knee.

 

His lovely red hair called to her and she laced her fingers through his crown, perhaps as a means of additional support or perhaps to encourage him as his fingers trailed up the back of her thigh, broaching the hem of her dress.  He looked up at her, a pleasant glow on his face and paused as if waiting for her to signal him that his actions were acceptable.

 

She gave her permission by way of a soft smile and a rub of her thumb through his fringe.  His eyes were soft and loving and stayed with her as his hand drew softly north.  She wasn’t sure about his goal in this little exercise, but she did know that he was about to find a surprise when he reached the hot pink suspenders that were holding up her stockings underneath.

 

It was one of the last things Ginny had insisted on when they were shopping at P&L on Thursday.  She said that wearing a suspender belt with stockings was one of the sexiest feelings on earth and right now, Hermione was praising Ginny’s insight.

 

The thudding in her chest told her that he was nearing exposed flesh and sure enough, his fingers brushed over the edge of her silky stocking and his face turned up to hers in question.

 

“Surprise,” she offered softly, still grinning at him.

 

“What are you wearing?”

 

Hermione reached down and lifted the skirt far enough for him to see the lacy straps that clasped onto her hosiery.

 

“Oh, that is fucking sexy, Hermione.”  His wide eyes were examining the sussies, obviously trying to decipher the contraption.  “How do these work?”

 

For once, she didn’t mind his language at all and she reached down to show him, pushing on the little silk covered button that lay hooked in the ring.  It popped loose and Ron’s eyes grew dark with excitement like he had found a new toy to play with.

 

“Can I try?”

 

A pool of dampness rushed into her knickers and she squeezed her internal muscles together to try and stop the flow of lust.  She held her dress up for him on the other side and although it took two hands, he managed to release the stocking in only a few seconds.  When it popped loose, her mouth fell open from the pressure of air that she had held in her lungs.  His head ducked around the side as he noticed it was hooked in the back as well and without hesitation, reached up under her skirt to release the other clasp.

 

Again, Hermione’s breath sucked in and her eyes involuntarily closed.  She wondered if he had noticed her reaction or was just concentrating on her leg, but it didn’t matter for all her focus was on the feel of his fingertips that were now rolling the stocking down her leg.  She immediately dropped her dress and searched blindly for his hair again.  The fire burning in her cheeks nearly matched the heat that was building in her center as he gently shed her of the stocking, lifting her leg under the knee with one hand and pulling it off her foot with the other.

 

 As if it wasn’t obvious, a thought flashed through her head.  _He’s undressing me!_

 

With a flustered jerk, the hand on the table slipped out, knocking down several framed pictures and pushing the day’s post to the floor.  Both of them seemed to snap out of the haze of lust that had overtaken them.  Hermione’s eyes popped open to look at his as a sudden wave of giddiness took her over and she giggled turning to replace the photos.  Ron picked up the mail and placed it back on the table.

 

Hermione felt silly standing on one bare and one stocking covered foot and unsure of what to do next her mind blurted out the only nonsensical thing it could.

 

“Would you care for some tea?”  Turning, she managed two steps towards the kitchen when a very strong grip pulled her back.  Before she could even manage to find her balance, Ron wrapped her tightly in his arms and his lips pressed against hers.  The force of his passion and his control over her was a bit overwhelming and she sensed her heartbeat pulsing roughly in her chest, but soon the warmth of his lips seemed to melt into her skin.

 

His tongue stroked her lower lip and she willingly parted her lips to let him in.  Ron’s kiss was so consuming that she almost didn’t feel his hand slipping below her waist and cupping her bottom.  Pulling her hips against him, she was forced against his hard length molding into her stomach.  Suddenly, he released her lips, his eyes still closed, forehead pressed to hers and spoke in a breathy whisper.

 

“I want to make love to you, Hermione.  I-I know that I’m new to this and…well…I can’t promise that I’ll do everything right, but I can promise to be gentle and…” he gulped rather audibly “I’ll try to show you all the love that’s in my heart.”

 

Hermione stood speechless, her pounding heart echoing her thoughts. 

  _Oh, my God.  Oh, my God._

 

“Will you let me?”  He asked, still holding her close.

 

She wanted him, she truly did.  Her whole body was shaking with anticipation, but for him to come right out and say it, to ask her with such honesty, it just blew her away.  Words would not form to express her thoughts.  It was as if her brain was searching the index of her mind for sentences that began with ‘take me now’ and there just weren’t any to be found.  Those types of sentences had never before been spoken and were just not catalogued and at her disposal.

 

Frustrated at her mind’s incapacity, she jumped up wrapping her arms around his neck and, to her delight, he easily scooped her up into his arms.  Their lips frantically found each other in a searing kiss, but Hermione broke away to find his neck and finally whimpered into his ear the only word she could execute.

 

“Bedroom.”

 

His long strides carried them quickly down the hall.  His hold on her was strong, but caring and soon she felt him gently set her on her feet beside the bed.

 

Fully expecting him to place her directly on the quilt, she questioned his actions with a soft furrow in her brow.  “Is something wrong?”

 

His hands began rubbing her arms, a bit more swiftly than usual as if he didn’t know what else to do.  His eyes floated off to the left and Hermione had to crane her head around to get his focus back on her.  “Hey.”

 

“I’m kind of nervous about this.”

 

“And I’m not?”

 

“No, I imagine you are, too.  I just don’t want to screw this up.  I don’t want to hurt you or embarrass you.”

 

“Ron, I have absolutely no idea what to do or how to do it, other than what I’ve read.  So, I’m probably just as tense as you are, but I think if we trust each other, everything will work out fine.”

 

She reached up to cup his cheek and flashed a loving smile before her hand trickled down to his collar and the other joined it in unbuttoning the top of his shirt.  Ron stood motionless, his arms at his sides just staring at her face as she continued to slip the tiny blue buttons from their holes.

 

When she reached the bottom, her hands just brushed the subtle patch of red hair on his stomach that announced the entrance to his trousers.  Her eyes examined the firm muscles etched across his abs, the chiseled line up to his ribs and then more very light hair across his broad chest.  Reaching his eyes again, she finally noted a glint of happiness on his face as he spoke.

 

“Can I take off that other stocking?”

 

Immediately she sensed that Ron had enjoyed that whole experience possibly as much as she did having him run his hands up her legs.  With a broader smile, she offered her consent.  “Please do.”  

 

Kneeling on the carpet, his hands slowly snaked under the pink flounces, searching for the remaining clasp and managed to release it.  Slowly rolling down the stocking, he stripped it from her foot and tossed it onto the nearby chair.  She expected him to get back up, but instead he remained on his knees and his hands went back under her skirt, searching for something else, something that Hermione knew was going to result in her totally soaking herself at any moment.

 

Finding her hips, he brushed over her knickers, just exploring her curves and the pink satin that covered them.  His large hands found her bottom and rubbed over her rounded cheeks before his fingertips slid inside her knickers, cupping her arse and squeezing it gently.  “Damn, Hermione.  You have the most sensational body.”

 

She knew what he wanted to do even before the fingers under the elastic began a journey around her hips and toward the front, but having his hands this close and moving this quickly toward the spot she’d been dying to have him touch – she only managed to thread both hands into his hair, needing to hold on to something.

 

And then it happened.  His hand touched a curl.  It was such a pivotal moment for both of them as this was the last place to explore, the only spot Hermione had remained completely untouched, the final maidenly mystery for Ron to learn.  He must have sensed it as well for he looked up at her, his eyes begging for permission to proceed – to know all of her at last.  She considered that it must have been from thinking of Harry and Ginny.  Yes, that had to be it – she had proposals on the brain, for seeing him kneeling before her like this made her almost want the same for herself.  

 

 Hermione’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure it would burst out of her chest and she’d collapse from want.  A million and one memories flashed through her mind recalling her history with this freckle-faced boy turned wonderful man who held her delicate heart and vestal body in his hands.  But she knew instantly how much she wanted this, she wanted Ron and only him, and her face filled with a pure happiness that radiated from within.

 

“You can take them off.”

 

“Really?”

 

She nodded.  There it was.  The green-light, the go ahead and Ron offered a somewhat tilted grin, almost mischievous in nature and gripped the top edge, sliding them over her hips and down, finally looking to help her step out of them.  Watching him look down at her knickers, the moisture stained satin was pretty obvious and his gaze back at her nearly pinned her to the floor.  Never had she seen his eyes display such a carnal need and yet echo it with such unmitigated devotion.  

 

Hermione’s nerves relaxed at once and she thought back to some of her reading from the previous days, feeling incredibly sexy at this moment.  Turning around, she crawled slowly up onto the bed, knowing full well that she was giving him an enticing view from behind, her skirt just barely covering the bared flesh underneath.  Drawing her legs together, she turned to rest on one hip, her elbow holding her up in the center of the bed and looked at her now red-faced lover.  He was standing, looking totally delicious and her eyes craved more.

 

“Take your clothes off.”

 

Ron stood somewhat paralyzed and then his hands jerked to the front of his shirt as if the message had just reached his brain and he had to make up for lost time.   As his dark blue shirt was already hanging open in the front, he slipped it off easily, revealing those incredible shoulders.  Turning to the side to toss it to join her stockings, she got a good look at his back.  It was incredibly broad and strong and she just wanted to touch it.  In fact there were a lot of places she wanted to touch.  He toed off his shoes and reached down to pull off each sock.

 

She thought that she’d be content to watch him undress in front of her, but the urge to help him became unbearable and she scrambled to her knees at the end of the bed, reaching out to pull him toward her by his belt buckle.  

 

“I want to help with this part.”  She licked her lips hungrily, her mouth nearly watering at the thought of his deliciously hidden erection.

 

“Be my guest.”  He nearly growled in response.

 

Smoothly, she drew the leather from the buckle and pulled it back to remove the prong, the metal now dangling loosely as she went to work on the hook of his trousers.

 

She suspected that he was a bit unnerved by her take-charge attitude and probably a bit protective of his bits so, she wasn’t totally shocked when he took a tentative step back.  Dragging down the zipper, he pulled his trousers off, something that caused Hermione to chew her lower lip in anticipation.  She already knew how his long, strong legs made her weak and what lay between them caused her to release a tiny moan.

 

As his trousers dropped to the floor, his blue striped boxers strained to hold the engorged evidence of his arousal.  There was no shame in looking, she wanted it and having seen what he could do, her center throbbed with a deep ache.  Another near sob escaped her lips as her eyes slipped shut at the mental image of him lying between her legs, pumping into her and she fell back from her knees, landing in the center of the bed.

 

Fantastical visions of him naked and writhing against her were causing her vaginal muscles to coil tightly in anticipation.  She was already so worked up that she knew her body would explode at the mere suggestion of his touch on her slick pink folds.  That suggestion became much closer to reality a second later when his palms landed on her knees and stroked up, pushing the fabric of her skirt up her thighs.

 

Hermione’s entire body screamed for release and she couldn’t help as her arms stretched over her head and gripped the bars on the headboard, offering herself to him, begging him to have her.  

 

“Please, Ron.”

 

Finally, his hands arrived, his fingertips threading through her patch of curls and she felt the mattress give under his weight as he crawled up at her feet.

 

“God, Hermione.  You are soaking wet.”

 

“I need…I need to…  Please.  Please.”  As if to reinforce her need for release, she drew her knee up to the side, opening herself up to him and she felt him pushing the skirt of her dress up around her waist.

 

A cool burst of air tingled against her in areas that had never been exposed to in this way before.  His fingers were stroking along her folds, opening her lips to his gaze.

 

“Wow, Hermione.  This is so cool.  You look…oh, God…um…tell me what to do.”

 

“Just touch me, Ron.  Please.”

 

Her pleas were becoming desperate, her control like a rubber band ready to snap.

 

True to his word, he caressed her soaked folds with extreme tenderness, gliding his fingertip from the top of her womanly entrance to the bottom where she felt her juices trickling down over her arse.

 

“Yes!”  Hermione had dreamed of this for so long, her hips rose up demanding more strength from his touch, her own hands gliding over her breasts and slipping down to her own center.  “Like this.”

 

Her finger expertly found the tiny nub that was already hard with want and rubbed it gently in circles to demonstrate.

 

“Is that y-your c-clit?”  If it weren’t for the fact that she was so absorbed in her own sexual needs, she would have laughed at the wonderful curiousness in his voice.  It was difficult to be teacher and student at the same time for she was certainly learning the wonders of his passionate touch even as she taught him how to please her.

 

“Yes, Ronald.  Rub it in little circles and then occasionally dip down to touch the rest.”

 

He did, replacing her hand with his own.  “God, ‘Mione.  This is…I mean you are just incredible.  I’ve never felt anything so wonderful and soft.”  She could almost see the smile on his face.  It only increased her pleasure to know that he was relishing the mysteries of her now exposed, glistening womanhood.  

 

His rookie touch was hesitant, but still heavenly to her desperate body that began to push back against him, clenching her muscles as she rocked in want.  She was already well on her way when she felt another finger stroke through her slickness and press against her opening.  The beginnings of her orgasm formed in the depths of her pelvis.

 

“Is this okay?” he asked with definite concern in his voice.

 

  _Almost.  Yes.  Yes!  Yes!!_

 

“Yes!!!”  She nearly screamed as her hand gripped his fiercely and held it firmly against her as she shook with one pulsing convulsion after another.  Her back arched off the bed until finally she collapsed and released his hand, panting with exhausted pleasure.

 

She was faintly aware of his movement as he slowly withdrew his hand.  Too weak to move, she lay there releasing one deep breath followed by another as the last of the aftershocks trembled within her.  Moments later, her breathing now under control she opened her eyes and was shocked to find herself lying there, dress around her waist, thighs still slightly opened.  The image of her wanton and very exposed body to Ron’s meanderings was a bit sobering and she blinked several times trying to gather her thoughts.

 

A subtle noise, a very soft clearing of the throat to her right brought her face to face with a beautiful sight.  His eyes were deep and soft, looking at her with a childlike wonder that seemed reserved for only the most momentous of occasions.  The wisps of fringe on his forehead mimicked the soft red in his lashes that blinked slowly, a pleasant look about him.  Resting on his side, one elbow had propped him up, while the other hand was drawing lazily up and down her arm.

 

He was so beautiful and she was so happy, the smile couldn’t be helped.  Years of longing, not just physical, but emotional as well – a need for her womanhood to be validated, all crested in a giant crashing wave of passion that only he could produce.  She felt a need to say something, to thank him for the fantastic gift he had just bestowed, but lying here watching him was too perfect.  He was too perfect and words might just destroy the moment.

 

She wondered if he had similar thoughts for he hadn’t said a word either, his fingertips doing the only communicating as they brushed over her skin.  Their eyes locked for a moment before Hermione saw him glance at her mouth and she instinctively moistened her lips just as he leaned over for a gentle kiss.

 

His warm lips pressed softly into hers and she reached over to stroke his back, her nails just lightly grazing his skin as she trailed down his spine.  The soft moan she received in return told her that he enjoyed her current actions and she moved her hands a bit lower, drawing circles over his lower back as he continued to kiss her slowly, softly and with less urgency than before.  

 

She knew he was beyond aroused and how he could even function with the constant reminder of his testosterone level pushing through his boxers – well, he was showing amazing control.  She turned to her side just a bit, pressing her thigh against his long, hardness, trying to tell him that she wanted more from him.  Simultaneously, her hands slid inside his boxers and dared to stroke his tight naked backside.

 

  _Oh, my.  He has a fantastic arse.  God I want to see him completely naked.  He must look incredible!_   

It was actually kind of humorous, the way Ron jerked and pulled back when she grabbed his arse.  He was still very much in the moment, but Hermione got this sudden flash of empowerment.  Ron always seemed to be the one in control, the one pushing all her buttons and it felt good to know that she could shock him just a little bit.

 

It also seemed to encourage him to move them forward.  The moment flashed and he brushed his knuckles over the milky skin at the top of her strapless dress.  

 

“Please let me see you, Hermione.”

 

She wiggled a bit to get out from under him and reached under her arm to find the zipper than ran down her side, but Ron quickly covered her hand.  

 

“Wait.  I want to do it,” he stated, mimicking her earlier request with a bright smile.

 

Meeting his sparkling eyes, she couldn’t resist the desire in his gaze and turned her body in toward him, her arm resting on his bared shoulder.

 

It took several seconds for the zipper to go all the way down as Ron seemed to draw it out, gazing at her eyes several times as he lowered it.  The sound of the teeth separating in that zipper were like tiny threads of her inhibition being cut apart, her flesh exposed to the cool air as her soul became exposed to his passion.

 

Her skin sizzled every place that he touched as he pushed the dress down to reveal her hot pink wonder bra.  She noticed that he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was starting at her bra and the mounds of flesh that were pushed up above the pink lace.  The warmth and excitement of his lustful stares tickled her in the depths of her stomach as she felt her desire begin to build again.

 

Ron’s focus returned and remained fixated on her face, making the next several minutes appear to go by very quickly, even though his touch was slow and smooth.  Her only recollections were of raising her hips and his arms reaching underneath her and remarkably she discovered herself completely naked with a pair of bright blue eyes smiling back at her. 

 

Hermione was not known to any man, but she wasn’t completely naïve.  Slipping her thumbs over the edge of Ron’s boxers was obviously a crystal clear directive to him that they were about to eclipse the final barrier.  He tensed and remained nearly frozen, only his steady yet heavy breath indicating his presence as her hand tugged the fabric down his hips, baring his arse to her warm hands.

 

She reached between them and slipped her hand inside his waistband to lift the fabric over his long, rock-hard penis.  Gripping him firmly, she gently rubbed her thumb over his tip and his eyes drifted shut as a low grunting sound rumbled in his throat.  The knowledge that she knew how to send him spinning was very empowering and a part of her wanted to just take him for a ride, but that familial ache was returning to her core.  She wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than his full and complete possession of her body and so she relinquished her firm grip, substituting it with a gentle stroke down his shaft before removing her hand and slipping it back up to rest on his chest.

 

“Oh, God, Hermione.  I want you so much.”

 

His eyes fluttered open and she could see him struggling to keep control, something she knew he hadn’t managed the night before or the one before that.  It was rather flattering that he had peaked so soon, but she didn’t want to tease him too much tonight.

 

“I want you, too.”

 

Stroking back some errant curls from her face, Ron brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek, something he had done many times before.  However, this time, his hand kept going, trailing down her neck, across her collarbone and soon brushed over her soft nipple.  He gently caressed the sides and the bottom of her breast, finally cupping her fully.  Lifting himself to his knees, she realized his boxers were still tangled around his thighs and he pushed them down the rest of the way, rolling to pull them off and toss them on the floor.  Seeing him completely naked and recognizing herself in the same state, brought a sudden panic over her and she whispered her fears.

 

“Be gentle.”

 

This obviously drew his attention back to her and he slowly crawled up to her, his face full of concern.

 

Stroking her cheek he replied.  “I will, love.  I promise.”  Looking to his left, he summoned his wand from his trouser pocket and turned back to her.  She couldn’t deny the fact that her anxiety level had increased, but so had her arousal.  Her fear was outweighed by the gripping pulse between her legs and she smiled at him, trying to assure him of her desire to continue.  He waved the wand over them casting the contraception spell and she felt the subtle glow indicating its effect on her.  Setting it back on the bedside table, he eased his body over on top of hers and she drew her knees up to cradle his hips as his broad chest brushed over hers.

 

A hot moisture washed over her throat as he hovered above her, nipping at her chin and sneaking in kisses on her lips every few seconds.  Then he discovered her pulse point and sucked on it with enough fervor that she was sure he would leave a mark.  The mind numbing tingles that swept over her limbs soon sent her reeling in a frenzy of passion that began to overwhelm her senses.   As his hot breath invaded her ear, his tongue darted in causing a rippling kind of moan to be released from her lips.  All the while his hard length pressed into her pubis and her consciousness centered on the location of his swollen tip in relation to her waiting entrance.

 

Already lost in his warmth and the tickle of his breath in her ear, her lungs filled in a sudden, erratic motion.  She was sure that if she let this breath out, another would never find its way back and she would suffocate from her own paralyzed desires.

 

Her legs fell open in total submission as his stiff rod drew down her stomach, the head brushing through her juice coated curls just as his hand threaded through hers, holding her firmly down on the bed.  His weight on her and grip were overpowering, but his lips were warm and his voice tender as she felt the tip of his cock spreading her coated lips.

 

“Are you r-ready?” he asked, his other hand stroking the hair off of her face.  She loved him even more, noting his attempts to be caring and reassuring while battling his own nervousness.  It registered plainly that he was about to lose his virginity as well and she owed him the same reassurance that he wasn’t giving it in vain.

 

“Yes.  I love you, Ron.”  Her trust in him was unwavering, even if her own fears were doing their best to halt their union.  She felt herself tense up, her muscles contract and her pulse quicken.  

 

“I love you, too, Hermione.”  He reached his free hand between her legs, gripping his shaft and rubbing it in a circular motion over her as he pushed his hips forward, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

A small whimper left her lips as she felt the pressure opening her up.  She closed her eyes and tried to relax as she felt his thickness invade her swollen entrance.  Suddenly a burning sensation overtook her and she couldn’t help the soft exclamation of pain.

 

“Ow.”

 

“Should I stop?”  He halted his forward progress immediately, returning to stroke her hair, their union nearly complete.

 

Despite the stinging sensation, she shook her head, unable to voice what she was feeling.  The pain lingered, but the thirst in her belly was at last being quenched and she couldn’t stop, she had to complete this and she squeezed the hand that held her to the bed.

 

With one final forceful push, he sunk completely into her and both of their voices rang out in a mixture of ecstasy and relief. She lay there for a moment, her body trying to adjust to his invasion, his warm breath panting on her neck as his other hand gripped hers tightly.

 

“Oh, fuck, Hermione.  You feel bloody brilliant.  Ohhh!”  He pulled out shallowly and pressed himself back again and the stinging diminished to be replaced by a sort of raw friction.

 

For being relatively inexperienced, Ron must have had wonderful instincts for his lips searched out hers once again, pressing warm kisses to her as his hips drew back and pumped into her again, this time a bit deeper.  Somehow, his kisses combined with the deep pressure of his cock to send a tingle of chills over her that demanded she have more and her free hand reached around to grasp his hip, pulling him toward her.

 

His tongue began an erratic dance in her mouth just as his hips began to jerk in a rhythmless pattern, pumping her until he ripped his mouth away to grunt and moan.  It seemed he was becoming desperate to finish and he let go of her hand and raised himself off of her for better leverage.  In doing so, he changed their intersecting angle and suddenly Hermione felt a sensational pressure against her swollen pearl of nerves.  She cried out when his next thrust brought her closer to the brink and her thighs clamped against his hips, trying to draw him deeper.

 

“Yes, Ron!  Oh!  Deeper!”

 

Hermione was lost, her body aching and rocking toward him, her clit desperate for that final blinding pulse that would send her into oblivion.  He withdrew nearly all the way and pushed into her deeply, calling out her name.

 

“’Mione!”

 

His final thrust brought her trembling body to its peak and her muscles clamped down on him just as he burst, pulsing into her.  The orgasm was so intense, she wailed nonsensically, her walls throbbing over and over, milking him until his arms began to shake in the effort to hold himself up.    

 

“FUCK!” he finally cried out, eyes clamped shut, mouth open, sucking in any life giving air that he could manage as the last of his seed drained from him.  Her thighs fell open, the quilt soaked in sweat and liquid from their exhausted bodies as his mouth fell to her shoulder.

 

It was the happiest moment of her life and so intense that she couldn’t stop the water that built up in her eyes, tears flowing out of them a moment later.  Her chest felt tight, her heart so full of love that the force of it rushed up her neck and burst out of her eyes in a steady flow of moisture.  True, she was sore from his intrusion, but it was nothing compared to the joy filling her soul at the moment.

 

When Ron looked up at her, his face turned to a frightening shade of pale as he took in her tear-filled cheeks.  

 

“Oh, God, ‘Mione.  I’m so sorry, love.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.  Oh, God!”  Ron’s voice was pitching and she heard him approaching the same tearful place that she was in.  She sucked in a breath, wiping her eye as he slowly pulled himself out of her.

 

“No, Ron, it’s alright” she declared through panting, stuttered breaths.  “It’s just….it was so intense.”

 

“But I hurt you.”  She saw him look down between them and glanced back at her in horror.  “Hermione, you’re bleeding!”

 

“Don’t worry.  It’s alright love.  That happens sometimes with virgins.”

 

“It’s not right.  I feel fantastic and yet make you bleed?”

 

Hermione sensed that he was getting far too emotional and she pulled in a breath to steady her voice.  “Ronald.  I’m fine, do you understand?  It’s just a little bit of blood and it happens.  It’s done and I’m fine.  You felt wonderful and I don’t want you to feel bad about this.”

 

Her change of tone must have worked, for the depth of his brows had eased up, his face slightly more neutral. 

 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you?  Because if you’re really hurting, I need to know.  I want the truth.”

 

“Truthfully, I’m a bit sore right now, but you gave me two of the most sensational orgasms and having you in me was a dream come true.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

 

She smiled and noted how his eyes brightened, the corners of his mouth turning up as his breathing slowed.  She tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger, trying to lighten the mood and he reached back to swipe away the last of the moisture trails from her cheek with his thumb.  His warm, naked body slipped up beside her, his arm sliding under the pillow and he kissed her gently, finally laying on his side and pulling her toward him.

 

They rested for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe and allowing their nerves to return to normal.  He was the first to speak, still cradling her head against his shoulder.

 

“Hermione?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m glad I was your first.”

 

“I am, too.  I’ve never wanted to give myself to anyone else.”

 

“I don’t want to give you up.”

 

She tilted her head up at his surprising statement, trying to see his face, but only catching his whiskered jaw.  The concern in his voice was unexpected and she wondered why he had said that.

 

“Who says you _have_ to give me up?”

 

“I-I just…I was wondering…”

 

“Wondering what, Ron?”

 

The silence stretched on, only Ron’s shallow and somewhat uneven breathing indicated the effort he was putting into starting and finishing a thought, unable to completely voice it.  Knowing him for all these years, she recognized his struggle to come up with the right words and she tried to be patient, she really did, but his statement pressed on her.

 

Finally, softly, inevitably he uttered what he had wracked his brain to eloquate.  “Do you think that maybe someday, after we’ve gotten to know each other better…well, maybe you might consider staying with me forever?”

 

Now he really had her attention and she pushed back, lifting herself to look into his eyes.  “What are you saying, Ronald?”

 

She got the impression that looking at her face was making him nervous, but she had to see him when he spoke to know if what he was suggesting was what she thought.  ‘Forever’ was a word that brought with it all kinds of terms and conditions, demands and sacrifices, all of which she would gladly agree to if it meant having his unconditional and unabiding love.  His eyes darted between hers and the air between them and he paused to swallow roughly.

 

“I’m just asking…if someday I were to ask you…to marry me…do you think you might consider it or is it just wishful thinking on my part?”  The dusty copper of his brows worried into his azure orbs even as he held her close.

 

  _Is he proposing? How do I respond to this? He looks petrified and beautiful and oh, my…_

 She allowed herself one deep breath and tried to reply calmly, not jumping the gun, but doing her best to answer his question with assuredness.  “I suppose, if…someday…you were to ask me properly…I would definitely consider it.”

 

“Really?”  He smiled, his hand tucking her errant strands of hair behind her ears and then cupping her cheeks in his hands.

 

She couldn’t answer, only smile at this sweet expression.  Undoubtedly, he wasn’t prepared to take their relationship to this permanent level and yet, his somewhat hypothetical question was close enough to reality that her body tingled with an intoxicating thrill.  A long life with Ron Weasley danced in the forefront of her thoughts, a very real and attainable future that he had just put out there for them to grab.  The idea was irrepressibly soothing and shockingly joyful.

 

Reveling in this mirthful state, she decided it best to move them into another topic of conversation for the time being, as her cheeks were on the verge of splitting open with glee.  Besides, she felt rather sticky.

 

“I’m going to take a shower.”  She kissed him lightly and rolled off the bed.  A few steps later, she paused to glance over her shoulder at the gorgeous naked creature resting on her bed.  She had just cleared the bathroom door when she called out.  “Care to wash my back for me?”

 

*** 

 

Harry had escorted Ginny back to the Burrow, totally expecting to deposit her in her family home as usual, offer the polite greeting and farewell to her parents and make his way home.  Having proposed, the attitudes of his future in-laws were sure to change and he hoped that Mrs. Weasley’s concerns about Ginny staying at his flat would be lessened.  He wondered if her parents’ instincts would reveal to them the fact that Harry had taken their little girls virginity.  Surprisingly, the revelation that Mrs. Weasley might have the same instincts about him, the sense of a mother knowing a son, left a hopeful warmth in his heart.

 

Would his own mother have known from just looking at him that he had eclipsed his boyhood fantasies and become a man?  He felt manly.  The act of holding this soft female body and depositing himself into her was a very adult act and he sensed himself grow protective, even more responsible for her: Very manly feelings, unlike the carefree thoughts of his boyish urges.

 

He had a fiancée and with it had gained a trust from her, the same trust he hoped would be present in her parents’ expressions.

 

Ginny dropped her wrap on the sofa, glancing at him as they saw the soft filtered light coming from the kitchen.  Curiously, Mrs. Weasley who almost always waited for her daughters return home before allowing herself to rest, was not seated in her well-worn rocking chair.  No knitting needles clicked upon their arrival as was the tradition.  Instead, the house was quiet, eerily quiet and Harry followed Ginny almost hoping to find one of her parents awake and anxiously awaiting her return.

 

The kitchen was indeed occupied, but unless Mr. Weasley had discovered some miraculous hair-growth potion, the red-haired, pony-tailed man seated at the table was not him.  The clicking of Ginny’s heals on the wooden floor attracted Bill’s attention and he turned revealing a half-full cup of tea and the folded remains of the Daily Prophet.

 

Ginny spoke softly, obviously not wanting to wake the household at this late hour.  “Bill!  What a surprise.  You’re up late.”

 

He smiled as she bent down and kissed his cheek, shuffling on into the kitchen and shaking the kettle to test if more water was needed.  Harry paused near the doorway, happy to see Ginny’s oldest brother whom he admired and loved nearly as much as her youngest brother.  Bill had been one of his most loyal advocates during the war, providing unquestioning support, second only to Remus.  He considered him a true friend, but at the moment any previous history with this man who towered over him, much like Ron, was wiped out in the face of his changing relationship with the girl in the kitchen.

 

All week Harry had been dreading the inevitable – facing five other very tall, very protective Weasley men who had spent a better part of their lives watching over their sister’s virtue, one that he had stolen in their own backyard the night before.  His stomach flipped just a bit.

 

Bill stood up and despite his welcoming smile and relaxed demeanor, Harry couldn’t help the trickle of sweat that left his neck as the hairs on his arms rose up in anticipation.  He flashed a smile, hoping to somehow mask the angst coiling in his stomach.  

 

“Harry!  Damn good to see you, mate.”  Bill reached out his hand.  The sudden image of taking Bill’s hand only to have him twist his arm out of the socket and lay him out flat on the floor, flashed before he lifted his own in greeting.

 

“Yeah, you too.”  He knew he’d have to say more than three words, but this throat was packed with cotton balls at the moment.  Luckily, Ginny’s form twirled about the kitchen, bringing an escape for his malfunctioning throat.

 

“Do you two want some tea?”  Harry noted her glowing expression and lovely form, still full of energy even at this late hour as she pulled out the cups from the cabinet.

 

Bill released Harry’s hand and turned back to her.  “You can top me off, if you don’t mind.”  Harry stood transfixed as Bill grabbed his cup off the table and approached his little sister.  It was startling clear how much he loved her, his towering form and blatant strength instantly diminishing to gentleness as he forced her to pause, taking her left hand in his.  Bill studied the jeweled evidence of her betrothal, sparkling from her ring-finger and his arms wrapped around her, his words soft, but carrying to Harry’s position at the opposite side of the kitchen.

 

“Congratulations, Ginny.  I’m so happy for you.”  Harry’s blood seemed to unclot just slightly at hearing Bill’s next words.  “You found a good man.”

 

Ginny’s eyes met his, peaking around her brother’s shoulder, offering her own assurances that he would be accepted into their family without hesitation.  A wave of warmth flowed over him and his nerves calmed.  He was a good man.  Somehow those words felt so life-affirming and he couldn’t hide the closed-lip grin commanding his face.  Bill set his cup down on the counter, releasing her and took two long strides towards the back door, calling out to Harry as he moved.  “Harry!  Come here.  I want to show you something.”

 

The screen door slammed as Bill made a hasty exit and Harry jumped, his feet rooted to the ground even though Bill’s words made it clear that he should be moving.  Why was he worried?  Bill just said he was a good man.  Still, something about wanting to speak to Harry in private, brought back a wave of insecurity.  Clearing his throat, Harry carried himself through the kitchen, Ginny smiling at him as she went about her preparations, apparently oblivious to his feelings of dread.

 

The night was cold and he could see the steam of Bill’s breath floating in the air as he waited in the garden.  His body language was spewing an unthreatening calm and yet Harry couldn’t help his tentative approach.

 

Looking up at the sky, Bill spoke.  “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

 

“Um…yeah, it is.”  These casual comments on the weather withstanding, Harry knew there were much more relevant questions to be asked and he steeled himself as he heard Bill draw in a breath.

 

“So…um…congratulations!”  Bill’s eyes were still fixed upward.  “Looks like you’re going to be an official member of the family now.”

 

Harry’s relief at that statement seemed to halt in his head and never made it to his muted tongue that currently felt thick and useless as it attempted to form any word in the English language.  “Um…er…yeah, I guess so.”  Realizing how utterly stupid he was sounding, he mentally slapped himself.  “I mean, yes, thank you.”

 

“I got some wonderful news myself today.”  Bill tilted his head back down on a more even level with Harry and for the first time, Harry noted a definite twinkle in his eye.

 

“Really, what?”

 

“I’m going to be a father.”

 

“That’s fantastic Bill!”  Harry forgot his own worries for a momemt and slapped Bill on the shoulder.  Withdrawing his arm, he stood in silence for a moment until he felt Bill reach around and grasp him rather firmly around his neck and shoulder, steering him away from the house.

 

“You know, having a family really makes you stop and think about your life.  As soon as I found out from Fleur, all I could think about was that if I have a little girl, how protective I would be and it just made me think of Ginny.”  Bill pushed on Harry’s shoulder forcing him to face him as he gripped both shoulders in his rather large hands.  You know that anxiety from a just a few minutes earlier?  It was back.

 

His words had been perfectly clear and Harry heard them and even comprehended them, but his mind was still rushing in a haze of fight or flight for whatever might happen next.

 

“Harry.”  He looked down for a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts before focusing squarely on Harry’s eyes.  “I meant what I said in there.  Ginny has found a good man.  I know you love her and I know that you won’t let anyone hurt her.  I-I just thought that I’d warn you, however, that my brothers are very protective of Ginny.”  Harry’s heart beat reached triple time.  Bill looked very sincere as he continued.  

 

“We all love you and I’m sure they’ll be accepting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they still give you a bit of a hard time tomorrow.  I suppose I have a slightly skewed perspective on marriage and family as compared to them so, I just wanted to tell you congratulations tonight.  You already know that I’ll support you and Ginny one hundred and ten percent unless you hurt her in which case you’ll die a most horrible death!”  Bill’s face had suddenly brightened with that last statement and he whacked Harry on the back hard enough that he coughed out the backed up air pocket that had been holding tight in his chest.

 

Bill casually strolled back toward the house, calling to him after several steps.  “Come on, Harry.  Let’s have some tea.”

 

*** 

 

Sunday morning broke sunny and quite cool.  Winter’s chill was definitely knocking at the door.  In fact, Harry wouldn’t have been surprised to see snow falling with the current temperatures.  The wide window in his bedroom provided a lot of light and he lay still, saturated in warmth from the soft body that lay draped over his.  A delicate freckled arm heated his chest, her long leg, tied up partially in the blanket, rested between his as he recalled the previous night.

 

  _After a bit of tea and a rather pleasant chat with Bill, Ginny started to yawn and Harry thought it was best that they all get some sleep.  He wasn’t sure what the brothers had up their sleeves for Sunday and he considered it wise to be rested and prepared for the worst.  He stood up, about to lean over and kiss Ginny goodnight when her words shocked him with a most pleasant realization._  

_“I’m tired Harry.  Let’s go to bed.  Bill, can you leave a note for Mum and Dad that I’m sleeping at Harry’s place tonight.”_

_He must have looked like some ice sculpture standing there, mouth open, staring at her like an idiot.  Ginny went in the other room, gathering her wrap and bag and Harry’s eyes finally moved toward Bill who also sat looking a bit stunned._

_In those two seconds, Harry clearly had an entire silent conversation with the man at the table.  Bill never spoke, but Harry could just imagine the words between them based only on his expression._

_Harry:  “She’s going to sleep with me.”_

_Bill:  “Are you going to have sex?”_

_Harry:  “Um…well, I hope so.”_

_Bill:  “You’d better not!”_

_Harry:  “Alright, I won’t.”_

_Bill:  “That’s my baby sister, you prat!”_

_Harry:  “She’s my future wife!”_

_Bill:  “Well, alright, if you must.”_

_At least that was the gist of it and Bill nodded as he yawned and downed the last of his tea._

_“Sure.  Goodnight, sis.  Goodnight, Harry.”_

Harry lifted his somewhat numb arm from under the pillow causing Ginny’s head to shift and she rolled back to her left.  He curled up behind her, brushing his fingers down her arm.  She was truly the most precious thing in the world to him and he relished this time to just watch her sleep.

 

Hours earlier, once they had settled into bed, she had confessed herself still a bit sore and so Harry had taken his time and very gently brought her to a peak in a way that both she and his tongue enjoyed immensely.  True, he was hard as a rock by the time he finished, and she did offer to help him out, but he decided this would just be for her on this night and her soft words and laughter afterwards calmed him enough that he fell asleep.

 

Now free of her weight, he rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed, checking the time and realized it was actually quite late.  He decided to grab a quick shower and then wake her.  So, about ten minutes later, he brushed a kiss on her shoulder.

 

“Wake up, love.  It’s already eleven o’clock and we have to be at your parents’ by one.”

 

She murmured enough that he knew she was starting to wake and he headed toward the kitchen.  No sooner than he had touch the tile, the Floo flared up and he heard Ron’s voice.

 

“Harry?  Hey, mate, are you up?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Can I pop over?”

 

“Sure.”

 

A second later and Ron was standing in his living room, a grand smile immediately flashing on his face.

 

“You look happy.”  Harry offered as he entered the kitchen, heading for the water kettle.

 

“Oh, I am, mate.  I truly am.”

 

“Well?  I assume you and Hermione straightened everything out and are back on good terms?”  He waved a cup at Ron with a questioning look and Ron nodded.

 

“Oh, yeah.  Terms.  Yeah, we’re on excellent terms now, I’d say!”

  
”Wait a minute.”  Harry stopped, watching Ron as he pulled out a chair, spun it around and straddled it at the table, folding his arms on top.

 

“You shagged her, didn’t you?!”

 

“Harry!  I’m not the kind of guy to kiss and tell.  I promised Hermione I’d keep it all hush-hush.  Of course, she did say that I could tell _you_.”

 

“Well, then tell!”

 

Harry knew that look for he had the same one on his face all day yesterday.  They both had it bad and they both knew it.  Harry couldn’t help the wide smile that broke over his face as he approached the table.  He wanted to tell Ron about his experiences as well, but being Ginny’s brother kind of put a damper on that.  Still, he was dying to find a way to say something and it appeared that Ron was dying to do the same.

 

“Well, it was brilliant.  She’s brilliant.  I’m crazy about her, I really am.  Hell, Harry, I almost asked her to marry me.”

 

“What?!”  Harry quickly dropped his volume and glanced down the hallway to make sure they were still alone.

 

“Um…well…I just sort of asked if she might consider it, if I were to ask her…properly, of course.”

 

“And?”

 

“And…she said that yes, she’d consider it.”  Harry was sure he’d never seen Ron with a bigger smile.

 

“That’s great!”

 

“Um…Harry…this is kind of weird talking to you about this, but did you and Ginny…you know…do the deed?”  Harry felt himself pale just a bit and Ron must have noticed for he continued on reassuringly.  “I’m not going to slug you over it, you know…I just have a question.”

 

“Yeah.  Friday night, but not last night.  She’s a bit…um…you know.”

 

“Sore?”  Harry nodded as Ron continued.  “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering.  I think I kind of hurt her and well…God, I felt so bad.  I didn’t know what to do.”

 

“Yeah, I know.  Still, I’m glad it was you, Ron.  The two of you really belong together.  If you want some advice on proposing, I think I’ve got it down pat.”  Harry had stood and slapped him on the shoulder as the tea kettle buzzed.  “Hey, mate, listen…can I ask you something?”

 

“Yeah, sure, anything.”

 

“Do you know if your brothers are planning something for me today?”

 

Ron’s face turned to what Harry would describe as an evil grin and he bucked his eyebrows.  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

 

“Yeah, I would, mate.  Do I need to stun you and lock you in a broom cupboard to make sure you don’t participate?”

 

“And what makes you think that you could do that?”

 

“What makes you think I couldn’t?”

 

Harry walked over with two full cups of tea and set them on the table.  In a flash, Ron pulled his wand, uttering a full body bind with alarming speed.  However, Harry waved it off and had his best mate silenced, bound and resting on a cushion floor without even spilling a drop of their tea – and all within just a few seconds.

 

Suddenly Ginny appeared in the kitchen doorway clad in her dressing gown, looking totally appalled and quite concerned at her brother’s prone form on the kitchen floor.  Harry knew he hadn’t hurt him in the least and yet, he felt actual fear when looking into the eyes of his beloved.   Acting quickly, he waved off the silencing charm.

 

“Good morning, love.  This isn’t what it seems.”

 

Ron must have noticed his sister’s stern expression as well, for even he came to Harry’s defense while laying flat on the kitchen tile.  “Yeah, we were just goofing around.  Right, Harry?”

 

“Oh…absolutely.”  He released the body bind and Ron quickly stood up, straightening his clothes and then turning the chair back around to its proper location.

 

“What are you two fools up to?!”  She nearly screeched as Harry pulled out a chair for her and then cringed as he stepped back.

 

“Nothing.”  They replied in unison.

 

Ginny turned her gaze firmly to Harry, probably noting that he had been the aggressor in this situation and his eyes grew wide, unable to pull away from her as she sat down.

 

“This had better not be some stupid form of initiation or something.”  Her head whipped around and Ron almost dropped his cup to the table when she pointed a finger toward him.  “You had better not be planning something to hurt my fiancé this afternoon or so help me…”

 

“I’m not planning anything!”  Ron waved his hands in surrender.  “Bill and I both opted out, but I can’t guarantee that the others won’t want to have a few words with Harry.”

 

“I’ll show them some words…”  She looked ready to continue on in a full rant, but the Floo flared again, Hermione’s voice calling out.

 

“Good morning!  Can I come over?”

 

Ginny was still fuming a bit so Harry answered for her.  “Sure, Hermione.”

 

She popped in and upon finding Ron’s face, both of them erupted into blisteringly sweet smiles.  Without an ounce of hesitation, she marched over to Ron and sat in his lap, his arms willingly wrapping around her.  She cupped Ron’s cheeks and planted a firm kiss on his lips, just long enough that Ginny seemed to soften and Harry turned to find another couple of mugs.

 

“So, dinner at the Burrow today?”  Hermione asked, looking frightfully cheerful and dressed in a very feminine skirt and off-the-shoulder jumper.  Ginny had obviously rubbed off on her.

 

“Yeah, except that I think my sick and twisted brothers are up to no good and planning something detrimental for my future husband.”  Ginny laid it all out for Hermione who turned swiftly to look at Ron, ready to lay blame where blame was due.

 

“Not me.”  For the second time that morning, Ron was waving off an angry female stare.  “I’m not sick and twisted and neither is Bill.”

 

“I should hope not!”  Hermione eyed him and Ron seemed just about as uncomfortable getting that stare as Harry did getting the same look from his girl.  Not only were they both head over heels in love, they had also both found strong-willed women who had absolutely no problem putting them in their place.  Harry couldn’t help but chuckle when Ron’s eyes met his and the two exchanged a look that was filled with both happiness and a definite understanding of the others’ situation.

 

They finished their tea and rehashed some of the previous nights’ antics before getting ready to leave for the Burrow.  Harry tried once again to get Ron to clue him in on any brotherly antics, but he didn’t want to bring it up in front of the girls and they never got the opportunity.  A few minutes after one, they all Apparated to the Burrow, but just after the girls had Apparated away, Ron pulled Harry to the side.

 

“By the way, excellent take down earlier.  Damn you’re fast, Harry, and that wandless stuff is bloody fantastic.”

 

He slapped him on the back and popped away.

 

*** 

 

Harry prepared himself as he arrived at the Burrow.  Ron was just steps ahead of him walking toward the center of family activity – the kitchen.  Harry followed.  The general volume coming from the afore mentioned room indicated that Ginny was in the midst of the brotherly swarm.  Breaking the threshold, Harry paused, his cheeks rising at the rush of affection he witnessed.  George had her wrapped in a firm embrace and it appeared Charlie was next in the queue.  Bill stood beside his father, leaning against a kitchen counter, both smiling and talking quietly to one another.

 

Hermione had Mrs. Weasley engaged with food preparations.  However, to Harry’s delight – for he had one less person to stare at him – Ron walked up and without reservation, slipped his arms around Hermione’s waist and kissed her on the side of the cheek right in front of his mother!  Harry nearly forgot about his own love life as he watched a towel drop out of his soon-to-be mother-in-law’s hand.  Her eyes widened at the affection being exchanged right in front of her.  

 

This was no perfunctory greeting, Ron was lavishing not one, but several sets of kisses on his girlfriend who, even more amazingly, looked to be welcoming them with enthusiasm.  Harry wasn’t sure about the verbal exchange, but Ron said something to his mother that made Hermione flush most obviously and Mrs. Weasley hugged her and patted Ron on the cheek before shooing him out of the general vicinity.

 

Ron walked over to him, their eyes meeting as Ron traversed the kitchen and slipped his hands in his pockets.  

 

“What was that all about?”  Harry asked, a wry grin spreading on his face.

 

“What?  Oh, you mean, Mum?”

 

“Yeah.  You got some balls, kissing her like that in front of your Mum.”  He nudged Ron in the arm with his shoulder.

 

“Um…yeah…well, I just told Mum that she’s my girl now and I didn’t plan on ever letting her go.”

 

“Aw – you hopeless romantic.”  Harry totally expected Ron to tell him to shut it, but was surprised when Ron stood up a bit taller.

 

“Harry, I’m not going to take the bait this time.  I’m not ashamed of it.  I love Hermione and she loves me.  I asked her to move in with me, but I kind of botched it up – as usual.”

 

“Oh, like your Mum is going to allow that!”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see.  I’m more concerned with convincing Hermione than my Mum.”

 

Harry was finally relaxed and enjoying the friendly exchange with his mate when two red-heads appeared before him, one rather tall and thin, the other a bit shorter and displaying an impressive set of muscles.

 

“Harry!”  Charlie slugged him in the arm hard enough to make him sway on the spot, but he quickly regained his ground.  “So, you’re going to be an official member of the Weasley clan huh?”

 

Harry smiled in response, but silently begged that Ron would stay beside him, if only for moral support, as George joined in the celebrations.  Surprisingly, George offered a hand and spoke quite sincerely, the exact opposite of his rather rowdy, shorter brother.

 

“Congratulations Harry.  Ginny couldn’t have found a better man.”

 

He hooked an arm around Harry’s neck and pulled him in, patting his back.  Harry wasn’t sure if the lump lodged in his throat was due to anxiety or the look of genuine brotherly affection that was radiating off of George’s face as he stepped back.  Either way, he felt a need to respond and swallowed the air pocket down roughly.

 

“I appreciate that George.  Charlie.”

 

Seeing Charlie at the gathering was a shock in itself as he rarely made it back from Romania, but even more surprising was the voice that carried from the back door as another red-head entered the house.

 

“Oh brothers of mine!  You won’t believe what I just saw…”  Percy was striding through the kitchen, his face lit up with excitement.  “Harry!  I heard the news.  Congratulations!”

 

“Thanks, Perce.”

 

“Come here.  You have to see this, too!”  Percy nodded for them all to join him.  All of the men in the household followed out the back door.  Harry glanced at Ron, but his mate simply joined the throng and Harry followed.

 

Percy ran ahead and motioned for them to keep following.  “I thought they were only imaginary…”  George jogged to catch up, but Charlie waited until Harry and the others were in the group before nudging him along.  “Come on, Harry.  Let’s check it out.”

 

“What is it?”  Harry called out as he walked out into the yard.  However, Percy and George kept moving down the path and through a patch of tall grass.  As everyone seemed to be following, Harry stayed with the group, only noticing minutes later that it was only Percy, Charlie, George and himself.

 

Percy knelt down and slowly parted the high grass, as if sneaking up on some unsuspecting prey.  George and Charlie followed on their knees and Harry crouched down as well.  Percy whispered, “Look!  It’s a Crumple Horned Snorkack.”

 

“No!” Charlie whispered in response, looking totally amazed at his brother’s discovery.  

 

Harry had heard of these creatures.  Luna was always off hunting for them with her father, but he just assumed they were a figment of her imagination.  Still, he kept low and made his way closer to the break in the grass.

 

“Don’t get too close, Perce.  You know how they get all riled up around red.”  George reminded him, kneeling beside him.

 

Charlie turned back.  “Harry, you go.  They won’t be scared of you.”

 

“What?”  Harry replied, staring at Charlie like he had grown a second head.

 

“The Crumple Horned variety of Snorkack are basically color blind except for the color red and it infuriates them.  Otherwise, they’re really gentle creatures.  So, I’ve only seen them at a distance.”

 

“I’m not going in there.”  Harry replied, his volume rising until getting an immediate shush from Percy.

 

“He just moved into the grass over there.  He won’t hurt you.  They’re very gentle.  Just walk slowly and then when you see him, just kind of bob your head like a chicken and make a soft little cooing sound and he’ll come right out to you.”

 

“Are you nuts?”  Harry’s eyes grew wide staring back at Percy.

 

“Oh, come on Harry.  This is a once in a lifetime experience!”  Charlie was urging.

 

Percy peaked through the grass again.  “He’s moving again.  Hurry up Harry or we’ll lose him.” 

 

“Please, Harry?”  George piped in.

 

With all three future brothers gazing with pleading expressions, Harry felt his shoulders slump in defeat and he released a big breath and walked forward.  Parting the grass, he slowly stepped into the clearing on the other side, his hands very aware of the location of his wand.

 

Sure enough, in the grass to his right he saw a figure.  It was hidden partially by the grass and partially through its own colorings, but the eyes were staring back at him.  Harry started to bob his head and make the soft sounds Charlie had explained.  Could this creature actually be real?  Could he have been mistaken about Luna all this time?

 

The tall grass ruffled and it appeared the creature was moving closer.  Harry did his best to stay calm, bobbing about the glade, but prepared himself to hex and flee at the slightest hint of danger.  For a brief moment, he was struck with the thought that Ginny would kill him if he got himself hurt doing something so lame.  He could just make out the eyes and it was definitely moving closer.  His focus was totally riveted on the approaching animal, the only sound, the rustling grass, his own warbles and wind.

 

Just when his heart was about to beat through his chest, nature’s sounds were eclipsed by a series of strange noises that sounded something like a cross between a laugh and a cry of pain.  At first, he thought it was the Snorkack making the noises, but soon sensed that the direction was all wrong.  He didn’t want to take his eyes off the parting grass, but then a loud feminine clearing of the throat, followed by a series of yelps forced his attention over his shoulder.

 

Ginny stood quite flushed, her left hand gripping three wands, none of them her own, while her own wand pointed from her right hand toward the form of three red-faced men, all standing on tip-toe and grimacing as it appeared their ears were being pulled from their heads.  Each brother was making rather girly whimpers as Ginny patted her foot.

 

Harry glanced back at the grass, but found the creature gone and then suddenly laughter broke out behind him and he whipped around to see Bill and Ron both chuckling, Ron wiping actual tears from his face as Bill gripped his shoulder.

 

“Harry, please stop walking like a chicken and come here.”  Ginny instructed.

 

He straightened up and suddenly two and two came together as he realized he had been duped.  Here he was walking around the clearing like an idiot, warbling softly and obviously putting on a marvelous show for the Weasley family who were watching just behind the clearing.  How could he have been so stupid?  Ron was actually snorting now, he was laughing so hard.

 

His own face turned several shades of scarlet as he approached his future wife.  Surely she was going to call of the wedding on the grounds that she couldn’t possibly marry anyone so naïve and embarrassingly infantile.

 

It seemed unreasonable, but Harry bowed his head as if he had done something wrong.  Ginny’s tone clearly demonstrated her displeasure at the situation and despite him knowing he was the innocent victim in this charade, he still felt humbled in her presence.

 

“My darling gits of brothers, who had better not tempt me or I will redirect this curse to an area more precious to them…”  All three reached for their bits, even as their heads continued to crane upward from the invisible tug on their ears.  “…have pulled one over on you.”

 

“Er…I can see that…now.”  Harry felt totally humiliated and yet couldn’t help the chuckle that was building inside him as he watched Percy, George and Charlie all hang from Ginny’s spell.

 

“Just like I said, some sick and twisted initiation attempt.  However, as they are my brothers and I love them…” her voice began soft, full of love and compassion, but quickly escalated into the Ginny that Harry and many others feared without hesitation.  “I will agree to let them go if they all swear on their ability to father children that they will never pull any shite like this again or so HELP ME!”

 

All three brothers united in a mixed chorus of agreement.  “I swear.  Never again.  We love Harry.  I love children.”

 

Ron and Bill stood, arms crossed, still smiling at the scene and Harry realized that they were not about to participate nor try to assist their male siblings.

 

Ginny dropped her wand hand and all three men visibly slumped as the pull on their auditory appendage relaxed.  Ginny waved her wand toward Harry as if gesturing they should get on with it.  Harry’s eyes flicked back and forth between her and the trio of trouble who were approaching him.

 

Normally, he’d be just a little intimidated having three Weasleys all moving toward him.  In fact, as he was already on edge today, he should have been even more concerned, but it was perfectly clear that Ginny had the situation in hand and he softened his stance, preparing to enjoy the next moment.

 

Percy approached first, scratched his head while glancing back at his sister and finally spoke.  “Um…I apologize Harry.  We were just having a little fun with you.  I hope you weren’t offended.”

 

“Thanks, Percy.  Apology accepted.”  He smiled and saw Percy’s face light up.  He obviously realized that his bits were about to stay in tact and that Harry wasn’t all that upset.  He offered his hand and Harry accepted.

 

“Harry, I meant what I said earlier.  Congratulations and welcome to the family.”

 

Percy turned and upon seeing his sister, bowed his head and moved quickly, stepping just behind Bill’s shoulder as if his towering form would provide protection.

 

Charlie approached next, shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled.  “Er…sorry Harry.”

 

“What’s that Charlie?  I couldn’t hear.”  Ginny’s voice made Charlie cringe and he cleared his throat.

 

“I said…sorry Harry.”

 

Harry could tell that of all the offenders in this little exercise, Charlie was the least likely to warm up to him and that brief statement was about all he was going to get without a bit of urging.  He decided that he would have to make things right himself with this brother and took a step forward, grabbing him between the neck and shoulder.  “It was all in good fun, eh?”

 

“Yeah…glad you understand.  Look…”  Charlie glanced down, his foot kicking a stone as he spoke.  “I’m really glad that Ginny found you.”  His eyes finally came back up to meet Harry’s.  “You two look great together.”  Charlie swung his arm out and punched Harry lightly in the arm with his fist and then shuffled off to his left.

 

This left George, who despite his recent bout with Ginny’s magical chastisement, looked downright happy.  Then again, he almost always looked pleasant in one way or another.  So, Harry wasn’t all that surprised when George walked up and wrapped his arms around him.  “Gotcha, didn’t we?” 

 

Harry nodded, his head still forced into George’s shoulder as he towered over him by several inches.  George released him and stepped back, grinning wildly.  “So, have you bonked her yet?”

 

“GEORGE WEASLEY!”  Ginny’s voice rang out and George yelped and took off at a run toward the house, yelling back as he went.  

 

“To bonk or not to bonk…that is the question!  Sorry mate!  Glad to have you in the family!”

 

Everyone knew that George could have Disapparated on the spot to truly avoid his sister’s wrath, but that wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining.

 

George avoided the hexing blast from Ginny’s wand only because Bill pushed her arm down at the last second.  It hit the ground near his feet instead, causing George to yelp and jump in the air.  Harry had to laugh thinking how much he looked like a cowboy in a Muggle western who had just been told to dance while avoiding the gunshots at his feet.  George was probably hoping he’d get hit just so that he could play the guilt card on his sister later on, but Bill had prevented it and George kept whooping and running toward the house.

 

Harry saw the blazing look on Ginny’s face and decided that unless he intervened, things were going to get out of control.  He knew she had no intention to actually harm her brother, but wouldn’t be happy until she at least stung him for good measure.  Ginny was trying to redirect her aim while Bill attempted to reason with her and keep her wand arm away from him and Ron.  Ron just smiled, understanding the fiery nature of his little sister, but still looked wary as he watched the weapon in her hand flail around.

 

Moving quickly to her side, Harry looked lovingly at her just as he used the same full body bind on Ginny that he had placed on Ron just hours earlier, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she stood paralyzed.  Even with the bind, her face still reflected the frustration in her brothers and Harry first slipped her wand from her hand and placed it in his pocket.  Then he took the remaining three from her other hand and held them out for Bill.

 

“Thanks…I’ll just return these.”

 

Hermione appeared on the scene, obviously alerted by George’s wild escape through the yard.  “What’s going on?”

 

Ron smiled and winked at Harry as he wrapped an arm around Hermione. “I’ll tell you when we’re inside, love.  Did I mention how beautiful you look today?”  He started to steer her away from the scene, but Harry heard the last of their conversation as they walked up the path.

 

“Why, thank you, Ron.”

 

“You know, my flat has a great view out the back window.”  Ron tossed him one last backward grinning glance.

 

Harry chuckled and looked back at his frozen girl kissing her softly and releasing the bind as he kept his arms around her in a firm embrace.  At first, she struggled and tried to complain, but Harry kissed her harder, releasing his grip and sliding his hands into her hair.

 

It only took moments and she melted against him.  When Harry felt she was sufficiently swooning from his affections, he pulled back and waited for her to open her eyes.

 

“Gin, don’t be mad at your brothers.  I love them.  I love your whole family and I especially love you.”

 

“Don’t you ever put a body bind…” she began, still a bit irritated, but Harry kissed her again to silence the protest.  Releasing her lips, he began a trail down her neck, his body tingling as he recalled what they had done just feet from here two nights earlier.  George’s suggestion was sounding better all the time.

 

Ginny tipped her head as an offering to his lips and sighed.  “You know you aren’t always going to be able to get yourself or my brothers out of trouble with a simple kiss.  Even if it is fantastic.”

 

He stopped and looked her in the eye.  “Yeah, well…maybe.”  Harry tried to look sincere, but then a smile erupted as he recalled George’s words.  “I could always try a little bonk.”

 

THE END


End file.
